The Tsunami Shall Crash
by Firestar'sniece
Summary: Far in the future the riders discover Vancouver and Murtagh accidentally angers Liber8; they seek revenge. Kidnapped, Murtagh is forced to watch as Liber8 rips his family away from him and rewrites his past, creating a new war all aimed at harming him. But when a mysterious threat appears that Liber8 recognizes, he has no choice but to team up with them to save his broken family.
1. Chapter 1: And So It Begins

**I don't own Inheritance Cycle or Continuum.**

**Yeah, I don't know if anyone is actually going to find this story or not, especially since this will be the first story posted for this category, and it's a rather obscure category. So yeah. Oh well.**

**That, and another reason for writing this story is that I was rather disappointed that they removed Sonya Valentine out of the picture. While I'm not fond of Liber8, I know the need and enjoy having a good villain for the good guys to fight. I feel like she was the linchpin for keeping the bad guys together, and now that she's gone, I don't know that Liber8 will be as enjoying an antagonist as they were before. **

**While she had her moments of friction with Liber8, it was mainly her leadership that kept everything together. After all, she took over when Travis was sick, and though it didn't seem so, she had a large amount of sway even when they split up. That, and when they got back together, though it was officially a joint leadership, it was really her in charge. After all, it was her ideas that were mainly forwarded.**

**Is it just me, or does anyone else wish that they bring Sonya back to life?**

* * *

_"A pebble tossed from a beach can become a tsunami on the other side of the world." -Edward Kagame in Continuum._

* * *

Prologue

"Oh," the woman said, the one wearing shackles in an odd looking room with another male. She had long brown hair and the man was bald. "I think I'm in the perfect position to judge, and I find you guilty."

With that she showed her wrists where two bulges were and the male, seemingly understanding, tried to run. She brought her wrists together and there was a loud bang.

Immediately following a brilliant flash of light a scene in the wild far away was shown, fire everywhere, a circle of obliteration seen all around.

"No!" Murtagh shouted and woke up with a start, panting deeply at the unusual nightmare. He'd sat up in his bed after being pried awake from the nightmare. After a few exhausting moments, he put his hand to his forehead in an attempt to calm down. "Just a dream," he murmured to himself. "Just a dream."

After a few moments he walked over to the curtains on the far side of his bedroom and peered out. Dawn was just breaking out, so there was no point in going back to sleep. That, and today was escape day. Today he would leave Galbatorix's clutches forever.

Where he was going, he didn't know, but all he knew was that it was far away from here. Tornac had promised him that they would survive, but considering the fact that survival seemed to be all he ever knew, he was fine with that.

He sighed. It was pointless to wonder about what life had in store ahead of him. He should just take one step at a time. And so, he staggered back to his bed.

"Just a dream."

Chapter One: And So it Begins...

Somewhere far away, the fire still burned, the fire that the boy trapped in the castle didn't know was real.

A man and a red dragon lay curled together inside a ring of destruction, fire burning on the outside surrounding them. Medium length hair flowed over the man's face, and his eyes were wide, almost in shock. He was dressed in leather, shocking for someone like him, and was lying face down, an expression of "Oh," on his face. Hands beside his head, they twitched, giving the only indication he was alive at all. The wounds which were on his body were hid by being face down in the dirt.

To an outsider, they would have appeared out of nowhere, but there was no one around for miles. And so, when the man's fingers moved more and he groaned, there was no audience.

The man pushed himself upright, and after running a comforting hand along his dragon's scales he looked around, trying to get gauge of his position. Confusion was etched on his face, and he took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Then he stood upright with great difficulty.

"Sonya!" he bellowed out, staggering around a bit. His head was throbbing and he was struggling to remain on his feet, the poison from a knife wound entering deeper by the minute into his system. "Sonya! Where are you?! What did you do to us?!"

'I don't think she's here,' a voice said in the man's head and the man shook his head as the headache increased slightly. It caused him to wobble more and he collapsed, exhausted. As his strength left him, the wounds he'd received previously causing him to loose blood still, his mind sank back into the dark abyss and he was unconscious once more.

How long he lay unconscious for, he didn't know. But sporadically he'd hear voices as he wavered in and out of consciousness.

"Never seen a wound like this before..."

"Where did he come from?..."

"What kind of clothes are he wearing?..."

"What's this?..."

With each line, he staggered in and out of consciousness, not able to make out the whole phrase. And then, he slipped down again, into dreams once more. Except these dreams happened to be memories, recent memories that is.

He was in a rider city known as the Stronghold, mainly because of it's renowned defenses. A council of riders consisting of men and women of many races were gathered together to discuss the current unusual magic behavior which many believed originated because of the split between the worlds. Eragon, his half brother whom he'd become close to given the many thousands of years they had worked together, was currently standing up, giving his decision and argument.

"I agree," the elven like man was saying. "We don't know what is on the other side and how things have evolved over the years. But if they are tampering with magic that they don't understand, and they don't realize that it's affecting us, they need to know!"

"But it's dangerous!" another council member exclaimed and Eragon held up his hand.

"I know," Eragon admitted. "Which is why I will be going first."

Immediately there was an outbreak of protests and the scene shifted once again, this time to city called Vancouver. It was six months since the previous memory and a lot had changed since then. For one, they had found what they weren't expecting on the other side: a land without magic; or rather a land where the people didn't know how to access magic or that it even existed.

It was his first time in this unusual world, and his dragon was beside him, growling, not liking the unpleasant odors that hung in the air. Suddenly, they were surrounded by large metal moving objects that held people in them. The people rushed out carrying box like things that produced bright flashes, speaking a language he didn't understand. Flinching back into his dragon's side and feeling like he was being attacked, his dragon hissed and the flashes of light merely increased.

Finally, after a moment, another large metal object was seen behind the crowd, and men and women dressed in black and white clothes pushed through the crowd, standing in front of him, hands in the air. With a groan from the crowd, they dispersed and he let out a sigh of relief, his red dragon growling softly.

The people then turned to them and the woman spoke, surprisingly using his language. "You must be Murtagh?" she asked and the man nodded. "Follow me," she ordered.

The scene shifted once again and he was back in the Stronghold, walking down the winding corridors with his brother by his side. A few people glanced at them as they walked by and through the columns to his right he could see the setting sun and a sheer drop down below where the concrete ended by the columns.

Many hundred feet below them a forest teamed with life with the tops of the trees seen below him, mainly trees with wide leaves, and a few birds rising from the trees into the blood red sunset caught his attention. But his brother took no notice to the scene outside, seeing as they had already seen it a million times. However Murtagh was never able to get over the beauty of such a view and it captivated his attention every time he wandered down this way.

"What do you think of this Alec Sadler?" Eragon was saying and Murtagh did his best to shift his attention back to his brother, wondering what else he had missed as he observed the scenery.

A frown lit Murtagh's lips as he considered carefully. "I don't know," he finally admitted. The boy genius was definitely a mystery to him. His eyes carried a light like they had some sort of secret that they didn't want anyone else finding out about. And then there was his mysterious background.

Supposedly, according to records left by his supposed mysterious father Escher, he was to inherit Piron. From the sounds of it he had struggled to maintain his place as CEO, and when he was ousted by his former partner, he'd had to go through several loops to get it back. Even the other members of the board were confused as to how he'd managed to get the position back again even though it was his rightful position.

But even Murtagh knew that there was more going on behind the scenes. For one, his friendship with Carlos Fenegra and the even more mysterious Kiera Cameron stretched back long before he was CEO and long before he was introduced to Dillon. From what Murtagh understood, one day Kiera had just shown up with him to work, using him to crack a case and pinpoint a needed location. That, and from the reports of a trial for Jullian Randall, if Murtagh red behind the lines correctly, it seemed like no matter what Alec said, he'd known Kiera and Carlos before then as well.

And then there was the recent friction observed between him and Kiera, and even more mysteriously between him and his supposed ex girlfriend Maya Hartwell that had cleared up in a blink of an eye. No. In Murtagh's eyes and in his experience in life, when there is serious friction between people it does not just disappear in a heartbeat with an all is well afterwords. Things take time to work out.

"I don't know," Murtagh finally admitted and as they continued down the hall, the columns disappeared. They were now completely enclosed by the building, though a light ahead was seen as more sunshine shined through, lighting the way. "I just don't think he's telling the complete truth. He's got something that he's hiding."

Suddenly, the memory was cut short as blackness dawned on the rider. For a while he waded in and out, thinking nothing, and then he thought he heard a distant crash. Startled, he drifted towards consciousness. As he came close to it, light could be seen from behind his closed eyelids and he knew he was conscious once more. He gasped quietly, snapping his eyelids open, and immediately he noticed something was wrong.

The man still had a pounding headache and he couldn't think entirely straight. But, upon finding that it stilled slightly, he began looking around. He was still lying down and he decided to take it easy.

The first thing that he noticed was that he was wearing new clothes, the kind Alegasia hadn't seen for many thousands of years. The second thing was that the mattress he was placed on had to belong to someone middle class, but it was the kind that hadn't been seen for a long, long time. They were built differently now. Mattresses in his day had a different feel to them.

The third was that the room he was in was bright, but it wasn't lit by magic, using sunlight streaming through instead. Magic lights were more common in his day. And the fourth was a painting featuring king Galbatorix.

"What?" Murtagh gasped, confused. He didn't know why anyone in the world he'd helped shape would willingly have a poster of that deranged king. However, a few thousand years ago when the king reigned, it had been a requirement of his subjects...

Murtagh gasped as the evidence pieced together. "No!" he exclaimed softly. It wasn't possible. Surely Sonya wouldn't have been able to... He wasn't even going to consider that. After all, how could it even be possible? Because that would mean...

'Thorn?' Murtagh attempted to contact his dragon, sitting up and placing a hand to his head as it pounded again, waiting for a reply from his dragon. And he was in serious denial.

'Yes?' a voice answered back and Murtagh was grateful that at least that hadn't been broken. His bond to his dragon was everything to him.

But the man chose to ignore that now as nausea intervened and his head swirled. When it calmed down he asked, 'Where am I and how did I get here?'

There was hesitation on the other end. 'Oh, that,' Thorn replied and Murtagh thought that he felt his dragon twitching nervously on the other side. 'Well,' the reply came. 'You were unconscious and I knew you needed help. But something felt off, so I flew around in the middle of the night. But I felt it was important that I wasn't discovered, no matter what. So when I saw a village I picked you up and dropped you in front of there, leaving you there. But I've been monitoring you, so don't worry. I knew when the villagers found you, and I know which house you're in so that I can rescue you if necessary.'

Another wave of pain came, and Murtagh stood up slowly despite it. When it waned, he sent across the link, 'Thanks.'

'Not at all,' his dragon replied. 'Just be careful. And as a precaution, don't give your real name.'

"Agreed," Murtagh said aloud and through the link as he took in the rest of the room he hadn't seen. It was quite something he had to admit. But for now he had other problems to consider. For one, unless this was some practical joke, the architecture was definitely out of place for the time he was in, or rather supposed to be in. He hadn't seen anything like this for thousands of years.

But was it even possible? Sitting back down and thinking back to what he last remembered before waking up here, he remembered the fire circle he'd been in. Before then was completely confusing though. He'd been chasing Sonya Valentine down a dark corridor, an orb like object in her hand. Murtagh had been so out of it that she had been able to jump him and stab him with a poisoned knife. When he'd started to pursue her, she'd brought out her gun and shot him several times, slowing him down significantly even with his elf like speed.

Even Sonya was a mystery. How the woman was alive was beyond him as many witness accounts at the Vancouver Police Department had testified to the fact that she was dead. They had seen her blow herself and Dillon up. She couldn't possibly have survived that seeing as she **_was_** the bomb.

Kiera had been behind him as she was slower, she not having his elf like strength, though she was surprisingly fast for a human. "Sonya!" she called out, but when Murtagh had glanced back he'd thought he'd seen a knowing look in her angry eyes.

At that moment Thorn had barged into the building, or rather literally _**through**_ it and Murtagh had jumped onto his dragon as they continued to pursue the Liber8 member. But she had turned the corner, slipping down further still, almost losing him. When they finally reached the room, he didn't take in the strange architecture, he had tunnel vision focused on her as he was quickly loosing consciousness but was determined to catch her. And there Sonya had placed her orb like object on a pedestal and it brightly glowed. Kiera had screamed out a protest as Thorn pushed forward.

They had not quite reached her when the light reached him, and next thing he knew he was laying in a circle of fire, the vegetation destroyed, his body in complete shock from all the wounds he'd received. And he wasn't really aware of himself in those moments, the memory already somewhat hazy.

Then off course, he'd blacked out and woken up here.

Murtagh groaned as he tried to move around but failed. As he lifted his shirt and looked at the wounds, while trying to balance on his feet, he saw that his chest was bound. Hopefully the people caring for him had enough sense to remove the bullets. And thankfully the poison hadn't killed him.

As he stumbled more, footsteps were heard and Murtagh panicked. He wasn't even supposed to be here! But the door opened revealing a man and a woman, the woman no doubt the healer. They both had blonde hair and similar features, including high rising eyebrows, and Murtagh realized with a start that they were probably brother and sister.

Each had blue eyes on him filled with sympathy as the man groaned. When Murtagh all of a sudden collapsed they rushed over to him, placing him back on the bed. A wave of appreciation but apprehension flooded him as he knew they would probably ask questions, and he wasn't ready for an interrogation. He hadn't had enough time to think his situation through and see what was safe to reveal and what wasn't safe.

"Those were quite the wounds you received," the woman murmured softly, her voice like a pretty bell. And her brother muttered something inaudibly, his voice more gruff, but full of compassion.

As Murtagh winced as the woman began changing his bandages, he eyed the two of them carefully and the other man narrowed his eyes. "My sister and I have never seen those kinds of wounds before. We found round, metal objects inside you."

Murtagh winced again. "So you did remove the bullets," he whispered, and the man eyed him even more carefully, not sure what to make of him. But the atmosphere grew tense with suspicion.

Fortunately, the woman was kinder, though somewhat naive. "So," she began. "What's your name?" At this Murtagh coughed, almost panicking.

"My name?" he asked in a higher pitched voice, not sure if he should give it. "Why do you want to know my name?"

At this point the sister was done bandaging him and Murtagh buttoned up his shirt again all the while keeping an eye on them. But this only caused the man to narrow his eyes at him. "Look," the male replied. "I don't mean to be rude, but these are dangerous times. That, and you were found in some very odd circumstances that no one can explain. You appeared at our village's doorstep without any explanation, with no belongings, and no tracks leading to the village." Murtagh nodded. What few belongings he had brought on his little "trip" were probably with Thorn and since Thorn had flown him here there would be no tracks. "That, and you came bearing wounds we had never seen before."

As much as he tried to find a way around it, Murtagh realized that he would have to tell them something to quell their fears of him. He sighed. He couldn't give them his real name, but he couldn't be too outrageous with his story or they would see that he was lying. "All right," he conceded. "But only if you tell me where I am and who you are. For all I know you've kidnapped me."

The man sighed. "All right. I'm Stan and this is my sister Fiona." Huh. So they were related.

"And I am where?" Murtagh inquired, trying to delay things as much as possible, yet not trying to act like he was trying to delay.

"In the town of Belatona." At least that sounded familiar.

And Murtagh honestly didn't know what to say to that. Finally he managed, "Oh." Well that wasn't good. It certainly put a stickler in his plans, that is if he had any to begin with. Depending on what time that horrible Sonya had brought him to, he could very well find himself in the middle of a siege. After all, considering the Varden wanted it from Galbatorix, at least from what he remembered.

He'd have to get out of here as soon as he could. Hopefully he could figure out and pinpoint what exact point in time he was, down to the day and month, but he was still in denial that he had even time traveled in the first place. And should he even warn the people? Not that they'd believe him...

As he came out of his panicked thoughts he noticed Stan staring at him with a frown, his arms crossed. "Well?" the man demanded and Murtagh realized the man was waiting for his name.

Panic began racing through him and Murtagh's heartbeat quickened as he desperately searched for a name, any name to give. Finally, using the first name that came to his mind, he blurted out, "Kellog!"

A puzzled look entered his guests faces and Fiona tilted her head, her hair cascading down her shoulder now. "Come again?" About then Murtagh realized his stupid blunder. No doubt the people in Alagaesia had never heard that foreign name before. That, and Sonya the "queen of hearts" would kill him if she found out that he had used her comrade's name. That is, if he hadn't already painted a red target on himself by giving that name out to begin with. If Sonya couldn't find him before, she'd certainly be able to find him now.

But it was too late he was already committed and he couldn't take it back. 'Oh well,' he thought. May as well go all the way. Hopefully Kellog would never get the chance to kill him for this as well. "Mathew Kellog," Murtagh finished and waited silently for their reactions. When they gave none, he merely replied, "I'm not from around here."

"We figured," the man bluntly stated and then turned on his heels, leaving the room with a storm. But Fiona merely considered him more and smiled softly. "Well, wherever your from you certainly have an interesting name."

"Yes," Murtagh winced, hoping she would contribute it to the pain he was in. He'd probably just signed his own death sentence because he hadn't thought things through. "I certainly do."

At that she smiled and turned around and left, closing the door softly behind her, and Murtagh sighed, bringing his hands to his head. A weird buzzing filled his head and he immediately recognized Thorn's presence. 'So, how are you doing?' came his dragon's voice and Murtagh flinched, realized he was going to have to inevitably tell him his faux pas.

'Yes, about that,' Murtagh proceeded carefully, even though he knew a chiding would come. 'We're going to have to leave soon.'

'Why?' came a concerned voice on the other end, and Murtagh closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as a he tried to concentrate. He was tired.

When he finally had enough time to think he told his dragon on the other end, 'Because I think I just signed my own death sentence.'

'How so?' came the sharp reply on the other end and the rider winced.

'My caretakers asked for a name and I gave them Mathew Kellog's name.'

There was a foreboding silence on the other end, and then the repercussions that Murtagh knew would happen finally came. 'You what?!' exclaimed Thorn in disbelief at his stupidity and Murtagh was immediately on the defense even though he knew he had no excuse.

'I panicked!' the rider retorted in defense. 'They asked for a name, and his is the first name that popped in my head. I didn't have time to think! They were pressing on me for an answer, and you told me not to use my real name! That, and I haven't been feeling well, trying to recuperate from all these wounds! You try being in this stressful circumstances and giving them an answer when you can't think straight while being pressed for time!'

At that, his dragon calmed down some and Murtagh was sure he heard a mental sigh on the other end. 'All right, then,' the dragon gave up. Even he had to understand that no one could react the best under such a situation. 'When will you be ready to travel?'

That was a good question only causing the rider to frown more. 'I don't know,' Murtagh admitted. 'But I am pretty sure that Sonya is wandering around somewhere, and when she gets wind of this name she's going to know it's me. Then she'll be looking for us.'

After all, she was the one whom he had seen use the device, and thus she would have known that she landed back in time. Thus she was probably here. Though why she hadn't been in front of them when they landed here was a mystery. Of course, he couldn't take the chance of staying in Belatona all the same. Not that he believed that he'd traveled back in time several thousand years, of course...

Thorn growled some. 'Of all the names to give them! It had to be a Liber8 name!'

And Murtagh rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, well what's done is done!'

With that Murtagh sighed and got up. After going to the door and opening it, he peeked outside, seeing paintings on the sides of the walls. But he didn't pay attention to them. Turning left at the door he went down a short corridor and down a set of winding stairs a the right. Upon going downstairs he immediately came into the dining room where Fiona was working on dinner. When she heard him she looked up and smiled. "Feeling better all ready?"

Murtagh smiled shyly. "Yes," he replied. There was a brief awkward silence in which he wondered what to say. Finally he announced. "I'm leaving."

Fiona frowned. "Already? But you're wounded! You need treatment!"

"I'm sure I'll be fine," Murtagh replied firmly ending the subject.

Upon seeing that he wasn't going to change his mind Fiona sighed. "At least stay for dinner."

But Murtagh shook his head. "I'm sorry I can't. I was traveling somewhere and I had a deadline to get there when I was attacked. Too much time has probably past and I must leave for I fear that I will be late." He held his breath and waited.

At this point as Fiona studied him she must have realized that he was going to leave no matter what. "All right," she consented and began searching around the kitchen for food. "I'm at least going to pack you some things to take with you. You don't have even a pack to go with you."

Smiling at her kindness Murtagh bowed to her. "Thank you," he murmured softly. "I appreciate your kindness and hospitality."

Fiona smiled. "It's no problem." It was then Murtagh realized that with what he had said must have made her think that he had been robbed.

A few minutes later Murtagh had received a pack containing food and a couple spare changes of clothing. He was glad that he was going to be able to blend in. After all, someone wearing strange clothes would stand out and be a dead give away for Sonya if she came looking for him. He was also given a pouch with money for travel in it, to which he was grateful.

"Well," he waved in farewell. "I must be going." And with that he exited through the door, Fiona waving him goodbye and going to stand by the door as she watched him walk down the road towards where Thorn had originally dropped him off.

As Murtagh passed large house after large house he looked around, desperate for any sign of the exact time he was in. Finally, upon finding a poster, he sighed. If he recalled correctly, this was around the time when he had escaped with Tornac from Galbatorix's clutches. If he was lucky it would be a few weeks before word reached here about a runaway from Galbatorix's court.

But things seemed different to, and they felt different. How, he wasn't sure. But he didn't even want to think about it. And so his mind wandered as he exited the city gates, not sure where he was headed. But he would have to be well away from the city before he summoned Thorn. He didn't want anyone questioning how he had a dragon.

But as he walked steadily down the road he was left wondering about his predicament. Since he was back in the past, did that mean that there were _**two**_ of him running around? Or was the other him terminated upon his coming? Reaching up, he felt his elf like ears and realized that though his hosts hadn't brought it up they had surely noticed it. 'Which is just great,' he told himself with a sigh.

The only thought that brought Murtagh any comfort was the fact that Sonya would know nothing about this culture, and very little, if anything about his history. At least he hoped. But then again, if she knew about time travel, something even Murtagh didn't, there must be other knowledge that she was privy to? And Murtagh shuddered to think of it.

But why hadn't she been there when Murtagh arrived? That was another thing that was disturbing him. That and the different feel of the place. Things just seemed... off.

Finally Murtagh was far enough away from the city to where he felt that Thorn wouldn't be noticed. Upon summoning his dragon and upon Thorn's landing he noticed the dragon's worried expression.

"What is it?" Murtagh asked, worry etched in his tone.

'Murtagh, I think we're in the past,' the dragon stated the obvious. And it only served to confirm suspicions that Murtagh didn't really want confirmed.

"And?" Murtagh asked aloud, knowing by now that something deeper was going on that was bothering his dragon. But then again, how much worse could it get?

Thorn seemed to look away into the distance, his eyes wide with fear. 'I.. well... I was flying around and I thought that I spotted another dragon.'

Murtagh sighed. 'Galbatorix might be prowling around.'

'No!' exclaimed Thorn. 'You don't understand! That dragon, who I hope didn't spot me, was a large, older dragon! And it wasn't me!'

Murtagh didn't understand at first. Of course it couldn't be him! If he remembered right, Thorn wouldn't have even hatched yet.

The man folded his arms, growing impatient. 'And this means what exactly?'

'Murtagh,' Thorn pressed against his hand. 'That dragon was a red dragon. Your father is alive.'

(Eragon Point of View)

Brom was not what Eragon was expecting. And truth be told he was getting tired of secrets. All his life he'd thought that his friend was one thing and to all of a sudden find out that he was something else was not something that made Eragon feel like he could trust the man, no matter what Saphira said. And tired of secrets he was.

As of now they were in the town of Teirm and Brom had just ousted Eragon under the pretense of checking that their horses were tied. And after eavesdropping on the conversation the boy wasn't feeling any better about his companion.

He leaned against the wall, letting out a sigh as he waited for Brom and Jeod to approach as he knew they were as they had just finished their conversation. One thing was for sure though, he was going to have a word with his traveling companion about his less than forwardness. So involved was he in his thoughts that he didn't notice the approach of someone else.

"Rough day, Eragon?"

The boy jumped at the sound of the mocking female voice. Turning around, he saw a female with brown hair and facial features he had never seen before. She seemed to be dressed well enough if her flowing outer coat was one thing to go on. But surprisingly she was not in a dress for she wore elegantly shaped shirt and pants, though they decorated rather femininely.

A chill went down Eragon's spine as she smiled. He was sure they had never met. "Who are you?" he asked the woman and she shrugged while gazing at him.

"Who I am is not your concern, at least not yet," the woman mysteriously replied in a strange accent that he had never heard before. But then again, he had never been outside Carvahall. Grabbing his arm she pulled him down the streets and through the alley. Upon finding a place that served food she pulled him inside and motioned for him to sit down, not that he did. After waiting for him to sit down, she finally took the incentive and sat down, folding her arms and waiting for him to do the same. It was a nice diner, not one that Eragon would have been able to afford.

At first the boy looked around a bit, no doubt concerned that he was going to get chewed out by Brom for this. Meanwhile the woman was silently observing him. Finally he sat down, wanting answers. "How do you know my name?" he asked suspiciously, and he was aware of Saphira on the edge of his conscious. She must have felt his distress.

To his surprise, the woman smirked. A waiter came by, and upon requesting for some food the waiter left. "That is not the issue here." She turned her attention back to Eragon.

"Then what is?" Eragon challenged and she tilted her head as she observed him.

After staring at him for a moment she sighed. "No doubt Brom's got business of his own to conduct?" And when Eragon leaned back in the chair and said nothing, arms folded, she sighed. A woman came and put some water in front of them and Eragon took his cup and sipped. That was until he chocked as the woman added, "What does your father want with Jeod in this place?"

A coughing fit ensued and Eragon's eyes were wide open. "My father?" he chocked out, disbelief in his eyes.

This only brought a mocking smile from the woman. "Oh, don't tell me," she started as if she were playing with him. "Your father ignored you for all these years and didn't have the courage to tell you that he was your father? Haven't you notice how much you look like Brom? And he didn't even tell you about your half brother?"

"Half brother?" Eragon chocked out even more. He couldn't believe this was happening. For years he had wanted to know who his father was, but he had never expected the man to be by and watching him the whole time! What, was Brom a coward to where he couldn't admit it to Eragon? Is that why he lied all this time? But was this even true?

"Yes," the woman mysteriously murmured with an absent minded air. And from Eragon's look she knew she had struck a sore subject. She smiled a bit before continuing, no doubt trying to rile him up more. "Half brother, son of your father's enemy. You share the same mother. In fact, he's going to come looking for you. He's older than you by about three or four years. Not that he knows that he has a half brother anyways, at least not yet. But if Brom lied to you and hid you from that knowledge, then I assume that he hasn't even begun to tell you about his dragon, your dragon's namesake. Where is Saphira anyways? With the Varden?" She smirked again.

At this point, Eragon wasn't sure what was going on. Could this woman be reliable? Or then again could Brom be as it was obvious he was hiding a lot of stuff. 'Eragon,' Saphira murmured in his mind, sensing his distress though she no doubt didn't know what was causing it.

'Saphira,' he thought back as the woman watched him. All of a sudden his world seemed torn apart even more. Would Brom really disown him like that? Coming into Teirm he had told the guards that they were nephew-uncle. Was he really that ashamed of him? Did he not want a son? The inner turmoil was growing more than he could handle.

"You lie," he told the woman and she shrugged.

She was almost gleeful. "Say what you will, but you've trusted the wrong group."

"What do you want from me?" Eragon demanded, his tone harsh, and the woman shrugged, getting up just as the food arrived.

"No," she replied, handing the coins over to pay for the meal. "All for him." The waiter left and as the woman left she stopped by his side. "The world is not as it seems," she whispered into his ear and Eragon shuddered. "I've told you vital information, and now you owe me a debt."

"I owe you nothing," Eragon snarled looking up at her and she smiled.

"We'll see about that." Then, walking swiftly through the door of the place, she was gone.

The shock shook Eragon to his core. Brom was his father? And he hadn't the guts to mention it before? What else in his life was a lie?

'Eragon,' Saphira called to him and the boy noticed that he was shaking. He didn't reply out of the anxiety that he was going through. Finally the dragon called him again, 'Eragon!'

A lone tear slid down the boy's cheek. 'Saphira?' he cried out her.

'Yes?' was the lone sad reply.

'I...' Eragon paused. 'I don't know what to think anymore.' He eyed the food distastefully even though he knew he should probably eat some because they had a long journey ahead. But he just couldn't bring himself to do so. The newest revelation shook him to the core and he didn't seem to know who he was anymore. He didn't even know his own half brother's name!

'I'm going to sleep outside by you tonight,' he told the dragon and got up, going out the door. As he wound through the streets he wandered aimlessly, not watching where he was going. But he must have passed Jeod's house, for he thought he heard Brom calling. Or rather father calling.

Not wanting to deal with more of Brom's lies, he ignored the man and walked away. But the man wasn't going to have it. "Eragon!" he berated the boy and grabbed his shoulder at which the boy shook it off, not wanting to face him. But Brom persisted in following him. "Where have you been? Where's your common sense? Don't you know how to stay out of trouble? I told you to check on the horses, and when I mean check on them, I mean stay there! Can't you follow simple instructions?"

Suddenly, upset at Brom and everything about him as well as his sharp tone, Eragon turned around. "Is that all you know how to do? Berate me? Can you ever be pleased with anything I do?" the boy hissed, and a shocked expression shown on Brom's face.

Eragon then turned around and ran, slipping fast through the crowds. "Eragon!" he heard his name call out, but he didn't bother to heed it. Slipping out of the city he called his dragon, and she stopped, letting the boy climb on her back before she lifted them to a short distance away.

As soon as they landed Eragon slipped off her back and curled beside her, chocking back sobs. They were in a small forest filled with trees, and the trees covered them above. He tried to look at the scenery to distract him, but it was no avail. He didn't want to cry, he would not cry. But finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and the weight of the day's revelation pressed down upon him. Bringing his knees to his chest, he leaned back into Saphira and cried, curled beside her. 'Eragon,' she murmured softly and placed her wing over him, protecting him as he continued to cry.

'Saphira,' he called out as he continued to cry. 'Is everything I've been told a lie?' When she sent a questioning air through their link he explained to her about being sent out of the way by Brom, listening to Jeod, and then meeting the woman. She listened intently and carefully, but even she was surprised at the woman's revelations, for he could feel it. And she was disturbed with the revelations, especially for her rider's sake.

'And what now?' Saphira asked, trying to comfort him. 'What do you want to do about it?'

'I don't know,' Eragon admitted. But one thing was for sure: he'd had more than enough for one day. 'I'll deal with it tomorrow. Right now I just want to sleep.'

Saphira hummed beside him and Eragon could only guess that was a consent. And so, winding his arms even more around him he cried himself to sleep.

His dreams were even more disturbing. All he kept dreaming about was field full of fire. And then there was an elf. Finally, unable to stand the nightmare, he woke up with gasp.

Saphira was already awake and well rested. Upon looking at him he realized that she was waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do. 'I don't want to travel with Brom anymore,' Eragon admitted after a hard moment. He'd had enough of the man already and he wasn't quite ready to deal with him. He was still angry. 'But I still want to track the Ra'zac.'

'And how will you continue your training?'

At this Eragon grew dark. 'I don't need more training. What I need is to be away from that man.' He was about to add more when he heard none other than Brom calling his name. Of course his luck was great! The man was riding towards him through the forest but Jeod was thankfully not anywhere to be seen. Eragon didn't want him to be a witness to what would no doubt befall them. That, at least, was a slight mercy considering everything that had happened.

Brom had Cadoc in tow and stopped in front of Saphira. When he got off Saphira gave a low growl at the man and Eragon didn't stop her. No doubt she wasn't pleased with the man's behavior either. She wasn't happy that her rider was upset on his account, after all she could feel everything that her rider felt, and she knew his distress rather well and intimately.

But for all intents and purposes the man was puzzled as to why she was growling at him, warning him not to cross the line that had already been crossed. Brom stared at her for a moment, as if trying to talk to her, and Saphira looked away. "She won't talk to me," Brom muttered in confusion and Saphira said in Eragon's head, 'I wonder why.'

Eragon crossed his arms, and he couldn't help but be somewhat smug that Saphira was completely on his side. No doubt she was ticked.

As Brom walked over to Eragon the boy narrowed his eyes, preparing himself for what was to come. "Where have you been?" Brom scolded him, stopping in front of him and when Eragon scoffed Brom seemed even more upset. "Don't be that way with me, boy!"

A tense feeling of anger filled Eragon and he turned away. "I'll be whatever way I want." And with that he made to move for his dragon's saddle. He was almost there when Brom pulled him down, causing Saphira to growl aggressively at him. But she didn't dare snap at him because her rider was in such close proximity.

As the elder rider spun Eragon around, the boy attempted to get the man to let go, but the rider's grip on him was strong. "Enough of that, child!" he shook Eragon and Saphira growled louder.

"Or what?" Eragon snarled back. "What will you do? Sell me to the Varden or whatever your secret plans are? Oh, wait, you don't want me there yet! You're afraid of politics and what not!"

A shocked expression crossed Brom's face and he seemed startled. "You eavesdropped on me!" he said, his hands still on Eragon's arms, too shocked to let go.

"Yes!" Eragon defiantly responded. "I did, and I'm not a child! I haven't been since I left Carvahall!"

Brom sighed, letting one of his arms go and rubbed his beard. "I should have known," he muttered, and then he eyed Eragon harshly. "You shouldn't do that to people."

"And you shouldn't lie to people!" Eragon accused, pushing Brom away with such force that it caused Brom to stumble. The man had never limped despite what his age looked.

At this point Eragon noticed Brom was going to start dealing with him cautiously for there was a change in his features and the way he presented himself. "I haven't lied to you, Eragon," he reassured the boy, but Saphira merely growled and Eragon laughed somewhat without humor.

"Oh?" came Eragon's challenge as he folded his arms once more. The anger increased and Eragon felt the need to get it off of his chest. "You know," he began. "If it were just that I probably wouldn't be as bothered. But when this strange woman approaches me and starts telling me things, like the fact that you're my _**father**_, then I start reconsidering."

A surprised look came across Brom and the man opened his mouth wide. "Well?" Eragon toned down to a whisper. "Is it true?" And he waited with bated breath for an answer.

When Brom looked away with an air of resignation, Eragon knew for sure. "It's true, isn't it?" he asked horrifically, not sure what to make.

Brom sighed. "Yes," he softly admitted. The man refused to meet his gaze, and Eragon couldn't help but feel hurt at that gesture. Was it for shame? Was Eragon really an embarrassment? This only caused Eragon's chest to clench some.

A few harsh moments passed in which the atmosphere seemed to tense more as Eragon looked in pain. "And you never told me!" Eragon clutched his chest in pain, trying to keep the sobs back. Brom was his father. The news only served to heighten his distrust of the man. "You lied to me!"

"Eragon," Brom murmured, and it was the only time Eragon had ever heard the man speak that softly, that compassionately.

Tremors rolled through Eragon's body and he shook his head. "No!" he whispered. "No more from you! What, were you so ashamed of me, so ashamed to have a _**son**_, that you couldn't tell me?" He paused for a moment and then, not sure that he wanted an answer, he asked his most fearful question with an even more quiet tone. "Did... did you not _**want**_ me?"

"Eragon!" Brom exclaimed softly, and his own face was filled with pain, as if the whole situation was a disaster. And to Eragon it was.

However Eragon was on a roll and wasn't about to be interrupted. By his side Saphira watched the whole conversation, and when Brom sent her a pleading look she turned away. "Was that why you lied to me all these years?" Eragon demanded. "Was that why you refused to tell me that you're a dragon rider?"

"No!" Brom exclaimed stepping forward some, and Eragon took step back. "Eragon, I-"

"Really?" Eragon interrupted harshly. Then once more his voice was a whisper. "Was it the reason you refused to tell me that I have a half brother?"

Upon the mention of his half brother Brom seemed to panic in fear from Eragon's knowledge, recognition of the subject and at that moment Eragon knew that Brom had known about his half brother. What more was the man keeping from him? So, unable to withstand much more of the conversation Eragon swung himself into the saddle. "Eragon!" Brom called out desperately and ran up to them only for Saphira to shrug him off. "You don't know the danger of the situation!"

"Yes, yes!" Eragon snarled, turning back with ferocity he didn't know he possessed. But he was exhausted of the excuses."I know! He's the son of your enemy! I was already told!" And with that Saphira turned around, prepared to take off.

"You don't understand!" Brom pled with him and Eragon stiffened.

"Oh I think I understand perfectly," Eragon whispered, back towards Brom, his voice void of emotion for fear of breaking down again. "And I don't want to travel with you anymore. I can find the Ra'zac on my own from now on." With that Saphira launched out in the air and he heard Brom calling his name. But he could care less.

As soon as they leveled out in altitude Eragon felt the tears coming again and he leaned into Saphira's neck and cried. His world was turned upside down. Brom had just confirmed his worse fears and acknowledged that he was his father all along, that he'd been lying all along.

'Little one,' Saphira murmured softly, and she did her best to make sure that the ride was smooth for him as he sorted through his emotions. They stayed silently for some time and eventually Eragon stopped crying. 'Where would you like me to go?' she asked her rider softly, and Eragon shook his head, blinking back his tears and emotions.

'It doesn't matter,' he thought to her. He was too distraught to decide. 'You decide. I trust you.'

'Very well, Eragon.' Saphira kept flying.

Dragon and rider disappeared into the sky.

(Murtagh Point of View)

Murtagh rode onward, having left is friend's house after hearing news of a new dragon rider. Despite the amount of time that had passed, he was still in grief over the loss of his servant and good friend Tornac. It had taken it's toll on him and it had also taken him some time in his friend's house to recuperate from it.

The entire memory was upsetting to him. He remembered escape day very well and everything that went wrong with it. He remembered riding out and his friend getting killed with an arrow, then a strange crack of thunder despite their being no thunder clouds. Perhaps, if he hadn't have waited an entire day, like he'd originally planned, then it wouldn't have come to this.

But what pained him the most, what made him hurt the most was when he remembered looking up and seeing that it was his father, his own _**father**_ that had killed his best friend, the red dragon hovering overhead.

Murtagh didn't know how he escaped, but the loud crack of thunder had suddenly preoccupied his father and he'd left in a hurry. But regardless, Murtagh was glad to be rid of him and he'd made his hasty and lucky escape after that.

He'd spent about a month laying low at his friend's house recovering and planning his next move. The Ra'zac that had pursued him relentlessly had for some reason stopped following him, but he still didn't trust that they weren't after him. He also knew that more than likely Galbatorix had sent his father after him. But, more than likely, whether or not he had orders to pursue his son, Morzan would do so. In his eyes his son was an embarrassment, and he was not about to have a runaway son that was known as a rebel as it would tarnish his "good" name.

For some time he heard no news, staying in his friend's house instead of wandering the streets for fear of being caught and getting his friend into trouble. And he'd had no news of the outside world as he couldn't wander around, that is until he'd heard the servants of the house talking about the dragon rider. Along with it was the mysterious rumor that the king was hiding for some odd reason. What it was, Murtagh never found out. But all he knew was that if there was a new dragon rider then the chances of Ra'zac going after them was high.

And so, needing something to stem his grief, he'd informed his friend of his decision to leave and he went to where the rumors were last heard, knowing that he'd find the Ra'zac.

He'd been riding all day, exhausted, and though he wasn't fond of going into town he knew that he had no choice. It also made him nervous, knowing that his father had a dragon and could be on him any minute if someone discovered his identity. But he had no choice.

And so, slipping into the city quietly on his horse, he quickly found an inn that he probably wouldn't be discovered in. Upon paying the owner and tying up his horse near the stables, he set out to find a place to eat at. He went on foot but kept his horse tied up outside the stables, not only because there was no room but also because he wanted his horse tacked and ready to go should he have to flee quickly. But he hoped not because he desperately wanted the comforts of a bed for once during his travels. It was the one luxury he missed.

Upon finding an inconspicuous eatery, he trudged forward, glancing to the right and left before he entered. Sighing, he pushed the door open and immediately sat at a long table in front of the cooks. When a woman brought his order he sighed and tucked in. It was nice to have a good meal for once.

He'd come from a wealthy background and was used to the luxuries of life, though he was certainly able to do without them. He knew that it wasn't something that he needed, but it was nice to have nonetheless.

He was just finishing his potatoes when he heard the chair beside him move. Because he was deeply enjoying his meal, he didn't look up to see who it was. Then, suddenly, a voice startled him, "Enjoying your potatoes, Murtagh?"

The young man froze, nearly dropping his fork. Trying to appear calm so that he wouldn't attract more attention, he slowly placed his utensil on his plate and turned to see who addressed him. He didn't recognize the voice.

What he saw shocked him even more. The man had a rich air and wore fine clothes, but it was no on he had ever encountered before. So how did the man know his name? He had short black hair and slightly tanned skin, but it was of a beautiful light color. His hair was smoothly slicked back, how, Murtagh didn't know. Despite that, his hair seemed slightly curly. There was no visible part in his hair, and the man carried himself mysteriously, having a very different accent that Murtagh had never heard before. As the older man smiled down on him, Murtagh knew he would have to approach this conversation cautiously.

But there was also something else about them man. The twinkle in his eyes seemed to carry the suggestion that he knew something that Murtagh didn't. What that was, Murtagh didn't know as both Morzan and Galbatorix had been careful with information pertaining to him. That, and Murtagh was sure he knew everyone or about everyone that knew about his existence. On top of that, Murtagh had his doubts that this man worked for the empire, though he could be wrong.

Murtagh stared with a calm air, carefully composing his features so that he didn't reveal his emotions. "You know my name, how?" he demanded discreetly, using his peripheral vision to eye his surroundings just in case it was a trap.

At this the man chuckled. "Yes, well I and those I work with do know a lot about you."

"And these people are?" Murtagh harshly required of him. And the man chuckled more.

"Some very powerful people," was his response and immediately the Murtagh's heart rate went up. They were with the empire, they had to be!

But he had to know for certain. He wanted it said aloud. And so, he demanded, "Come to take me back to the king then?"

A snort issued from the man as he raised one eyebrow, eyeing Murtagh as if the boy weren't what he was expecting. "What?" the man questioned almost mockingly, like he expected better from him. And as a drink was set in front of the stranger, the man took a swift drink out of it. He wiped the cup off with a handkerchief he produced out of his pocket before setting the glass cup down again, and he then he finished his statement, putting the kerchief back in his pocket.

The man was acting like Murtagh was in naive person who needed to be educated, treating him in a disparaging manner. "You don't honestly think we're working _**for**_ the empire do you?"

At this, Murtagh didn't know what to think and his mind went a thousand miles per hour trying to figure what other group could be so powerful that at the same time weren't working for Galbatorix in some manner or another. "The Varden then?" he put out there just to see what the man said.

To his surprise the man snorted in derision even more. "Not them either," he replied. "Guess again."

"Surda?"

"Nope!"

For the first time in a long time, in the history of his careful life in fact, Murtagh was stumped. In order to survive for so long Murtagh had gathered information upon information in order to survive. He'd had to know about his surroundings and how they worked in order to survive. He wasn't used to being dumbfounded. "Who then?" he asked cautiously, tired of the man's games, and as his cup was refilled with water, he took a careful sip before setting it back down again, all the while keeping a careful eye on the man before him.

Several tense moments passed as the man stared back, gauging him carefully with a smirk on his face. "That's for me to know and you to find out," he finally replied with a satisfied manner as if he was pleased with his reply. And in that moment Murtagh wondered if he was being brought into some dangerous game with an unknown group of people, well unknown to him that is.

The strange man wiped his hand on his pants and with a pretend surprising air he said, "Oh, but where are my manners? I have yet to introduce myself to you!" He held out a hand, smiling at the boy and Murtagh eyed it with suspicion. "I'm Mathew Kellog," the man introduced and once more Murtagh eyed the hand, not sure what he was supposed to do.

"You shake it," the man explained somewhat impatiently and at that moment Murtagh realized that the strange custom of this man must have involved grasping the hand. As he did so, almost not sure of if this was what he was supposed to do as he'd never seen a custom like this before, the man smiled and grasped his hand as well, moving it up and down.

"There you go," he smiled softly and Murtagh pulled his hand back quickly, even less sure of this man as more time went by.

The entire eatery was tuned out of his mind in that moment, and Murtagh gave an intriguing stare at the man. "Mathew Kellog," he rolled the name around on his tongue. "I've never heard of a name like that before."

"Of course not!" the man waved his hand, taking another sip of his drink, then, as the man's food was placed in front of him, he began eating. "I'm not from around here."

"I noticed!" Murtagh quipped with sarcasm but the stranger, though he surely noticed, chose to ignore it. "But that still doesn't explain why you're here and how you know about me, let alone how to recognize me."

That was the other thing that was bothering Murtagh. He hadn't seen any posters about him yet. So how could this man recognize him? Had he spoken with the king or his father and been given a description of him? The man had been so sure in pinpointing him.

"Ah," the man pointed his fork at him. "You want answers. Answers I told you that I can't give." He chewed more before continuing. "Let's just say that my people are interested in you and your family and we've come to give you some information."

"My family!" Murtagh scoffed. "I don't know why my father would be so interesting to a foreigner!" With this Murtagh picked up his fork and began eating to. He was pretty sure at this point that eating and paying less attention to his surroundings wouldn't harm him at this point.

But to his surprise the man stopped eating and eyed him more. "I never said that it was your father that we were interested in."

Murtagh froze for a moment, clearly not understanding. Who else could they possibly be talking about? According to his father, or Morzan as he preferred to call the man since he didn't consider him his father, Morzan was his only family left. And Mathew, upon seeing his reaction chuckled some. "What, did your father lie to you?" he mocked the boy and Murtagh didn't know what to think. He had other family? Or was his mother alive perhaps?

"Your interested in my mother?" Murtagh inquired and Kellog rolled his eyes, playing with him. "But why? She's dead!"

"No," Kellog replied and picked up his fork, eating again. "I'm not interested in your mother. But surely your father told you about your cousins? Your step father? Your _**half brother**_?" He smirked once again in a knowing way, waiting for Murtagh's reaction.

At this point Murtagh was in too much shock to be able to control his expressions. His fork dropped and he began chocking on his food. After his brief coughing fit which unfortunately attracted some unwanted attention to him he chocked out, "_**Half brother**_?"

"Why sure!" Mathew waved off with his hand as if it were nothing. "After your mother divorced your father-"

"My mother divorced my father?! That's what happened to her?!" Murtagh protested, not sure what was real and true anymore.

And Kellog rolled his eyes. "Will you let me finish?" the man asked dryly and when Murtagh remained silent he went on. "When your mother divorced your father, your father wouldn't let her have you. So she left, wandering around with someone else and married him. When she got pregnant she left him for safety's sake and for your little brother's sake and went back to her home town. There she remained with her brother and his wife until she gave birth where she asked them to raise her kid. She gave them up to her brother, as was the agreement between her and her new husband, hoping that their kid would be safer. After all, as I'm sure you know, whether divorced or not, your father wouldn't take kindly to finding out that Selena had another kid, and he wouldn't like that kid very much either."

Murtagh nodded at this. It made sense. It was also his father's personality. In fact, knowing Morzan, the man would probably have killed Selena _**and **_his little brother. So in a way, though he was somewhat jealous of his half brother, it was probably in the best interest of both. But one thing bothered him. If Morzan had known about this, why hadn't he taught him to hate his little brother? That would fit Morzan's personality the most, especially if he hadn't been able to eliminate his little brother.

"Anyways," Kellog continued as if nothing had happened, ignoring the fact that Murtagh was still processing this new information. "The ironic thing is that about a year later your mother did die and there was nothing your step father could do about it. And news about your mother's death did reach your father's ears, not that he grieved or anything."

Silence filled the air and Murtagh was disturbed. Finally he asked, "Does Morzan, my father, know about my half brother?"

Kellog shrugged at this. "Probably not. Your step father was very secretive about this whole thing, in fact his own kid probably doesn't even know that he's his father even after his father moved into their town shortly after his birth. Your step father kept his distance from your half brother and let his aunt and uncle raise him. Even your aunt and uncle, or rather uncle now that your aunt is dead, even they don't know who his father was."

"But surely records-," Murtagh protested only for Kellog to shake his head.

"Your step father was very smart, you see," Kellog smirked in a knowing way. "See, he knew that Selena had been married to your father, and he knew about you to, not that he cares one way or another about you. But he also knew your father's nature, especially since they're enemies."

"Enemies!" Murtagh gasped, not sure if he could wrap his mind around this seemingly impossible situation.

Kellog nodded. "Enemies. And he made sure the records were removed from the vault after the marriage. In fact, he broke into the vault to remove it and no one found out about it. He's carried it with him ever since. He especially made sure that his child's birth was kept from your father for his son's sake, which is probably why he didn't raise his own kid or acknowledge to his own son that he was the father. He kept his distance for his kid's safety, but whether or not that was a smart move, only time will tell. That, and he especially made sure that his son never found out that his step father was Morzan and that he had a half brother."

As Murtagh pondered more on this he began questioning things more and more. And as he still had his suspicions he didn't know whether or not to think that this was some elaborate lie. "Why tell me this?" Murtagh finally asked and the man grinned.

"Thought you'd never ask!" the man exclaimed and brought out of his pocket a thin tube like thing with a needle encased in some sort of protector. He placed it on the table next to Murtagh and motioned for the boy to take it. When the boy did and examined it he found it was made of a material that he'd never seen before. "We'll get to that in a second," the man reassured him and Murtagh looked up once more.

"You see," the man began. "We know your searching for the dragon rider. But what you may or may not know is that that boy is your half brother." Murtagh's eyes widened at this and his hands trembled slightly. His own half brother, an immortal and a dragon rider. "What we know," Mathew continued as if he noticed nothing. "Is that at some point he and his father were traveling together, and still might be. But we lost track of them after that."

"And what do you want from me?" Murtagh demanded. Never in his mind did he imagine that the very person he was pursuing was his family, his own flesh and blood.

A smile lit Kellog's lips as if it should have been obvious. "Why pursue them of course! They're going to need help!" Then, after looking around like he expected them to be watched, Kellog continued, leaning closer, pointing to the needle in Murtagh's hand.

"A friend gave this to me to be used in the event of a medical emergency. It can only be used once, so be careful. Use it in a life and death situation. But when the need arises, all you have to do is take the cap off and stick it in the person's arm. Then pull the plunger, this part down. It will treat the person from there and hopefully heal them, no promises of course."

"And how do I know that this isn't poison?" Murtagh dryly demanded, his suspicions high.

Kellog smiled. "Well, I guess you're just going to have to trust us then, huh?" With that he got out some coins and to Murtagh's surprise he paid for both meals. He was also surprised when Kellog slipped a few coins to him. "For your travels," Mathew Kellog explained as if he had a lot of money to spare. And with that he got up and put on a travel cloak, ready to go. "Now you owe us a debt," Kellog smirked and walked away before Murtagh could protest that he didn't.

This whole situation left Murtagh disturbed and uneasy. What he was sure of now was that he was being watched by someone, or rather a whole group of people. Whether or not they had a lot of knowledge about him and his mysterious past and his family was not something that Murtagh was sure of. And he wasn't for sure whether he should pursue the dragon rider or not. For all he knew, this was now a trap.

But where else could he go? He had nowhere he could go.

And what of his step father that he just barely found out about? If it was true, and the man was traveling with his half brother, what kind of welcome could he expect to receive from the man considering his father was the man's enemy? Would the man immediately judge him and turn him away? Would he even allow him near his half brother? Or, if he didn't reveal who he was, would the man still recognize him?

"But what choice do I have?" murmured Murtagh softly, staring at the coins and needle. Suddenly, almost swiftly, he pocketed the items. If it was a trap, he had no choice but to spring it and hope for the best outcome possible. He knew that that meant he was putting himself at his step father's mercy, but he had no other choice. He couldn't stay here and he was a dead target at the empire's hands. That, and when his father finally did get his hands on him, he was in for a swift beating for sure.

And so, decision made, Murtagh got up and left the eatery.

(Sonya Point of View)

The woman lay on a bed in a small room far, far away. The room was dark and lit by candle fire and her eyes were closed, though she was not asleep. She was completely unaware of her surroundings as she meditated while lying down.

Time had not changed her despite many years passing. Images from her memories passed through her mind and she remembered as she cornered Murtagh, her anger seething. They'd then abducted him, and her next memory of him was sweet in her mind. The man was tied in a chair, hands behind his back in a room that was with concrete floors and concrete walls. She'd grabbed his face and pinched his chin in anger.

"You will regret this!" Sonya hissed. "I will force you to watch as I tear your family away from you right before your eyes! And you will be helpless to do anything about it!" And with that she released his chin rather roughly as he looked away defiantly.

Sonya opened her eyes at that point and sat up, rubbing her face before she stood. "You will regret this, Murtagh," she murmured angrily. And she smiled gruesomely. "Revenge is sweet."

**All right, that's the end of the first chapter. I hope you enjoy!**

**Please read and review!**

**Sincerely,**

**Firestar'sniece**


	2. Chapter 2: The Beginning of the End

**I don't own Continuum or Inheritance Cycle.**

* * *

_"'There's a war coming.' (Kagame)_

_'How can you be so sure?' (Sonya)_

_'Because we're going to start it.'" (Kagame)_ - Continuum

* * *

Chapter Two: The Beginning of the End

(Murtagh Point of View)

(Future Flashback)

The skyline of Vancouver was seen outside the window that Murtagh was currently staring out of. A wide variety of painted colors indicated sunrise as Murtagh and his dragon had had to arrive early before the building even opened in order to have some privacy. Thorn was currently perched on top of the building, ready to listen in on Murtagh's thoughts throughout the conversation and voice his opinions through Murtagh if necessary.

All in all, Murtagh should consider himself lucky as he was the second person, after Eragon, to have entered this world. Though Eragon had secured negotiations for the various nations of Alagaesia to trade with this new world, it was still far too soon for anyone else to come. And so, currently, Murtagh was the only one allowed to enter this new world.

That Eragon trusted him enough to do this was also something that made Murtagh feel better. Truth be told, he didn't know what he was doing. This new world and new culture were just so different and alien to him that he didn't think that the skill sets he had been trained in would do him any good.

Piron and Sadtech were new and upcoming companies that specialized in all sorts of advanced machines the locals called "technology". And Murtagh had to admit that he was curious of how it worked. Since Piron and Sadtech were going to be part of the trade off between Alagaesia and this new world Murtagh had been put in charge of pursuing negotiations here while Eragon took care of other diplomacy else where.

As a show of good faith Murtagh had received a special elaborate note in his hotel the other day from someone called Alec Sadler inviting him on a tour of Piron. Today Murtagh carried that note in his right hand, glancing at it from time to time.

Once more, Thorn's voice came in his mind. 'What does the letter say again?' the dragon asked and Murtagh rolled his eyes.

'We've been through this already,' Murtagh responded, still currently waiting for his host to show up.

'Well, read it again!' the dragon encouraged and Murtagh knew that he was only asking for this because he was bored waiting for Mr. Sadler to show up.

Murtagh sighed and glanced down at the embossed letter. Fancy lined decoration lay outside of it and Murtagh still marveled at the uniform letters that came from their "printing". Then he began reading:

_Dear Mr. Morzanson,_

_In an effort to establish good relations between our company and the nations you represent you are cordially invited to attend a private tour of our facility. A limousine has been contracted to be dispatched at your location at 5:30 am tomorrow to take you there. _

_Please be aware that we keep security 24 hours at all our locations. If you show this letter to them they will allow you inside and will take you to the guest room upstairs. They have already been notified to this so they shouldn't be any trouble._

_No weapons are permitted on the premises, including the weapons you carry. It is a company policy. Scanners are located near the doors so if the alarm goes off the security may ask to search you for weapons. Just leave your weapons behind with your dragon since he probably won't be able to fit inside of the building and to avoid any trouble with the security. I hope you understand. _

_I look forward to meeting you in person and I hope that this will be the beginning of a strong friendship and strong relations between our company and your nations._

_Sincerely,_

_Alec Sadler_

_CEO and Co-Founder of Sadtech_

_CEO of Piron_

Murtagh sighed. This was what seemed the hundredth time that he'd read this letter to his dragon, and Thorn still hadn't gotten off his excitement yet. When Murtagh had first entered the building Thorn had asked to be allowed to see through his rider's eyes so that he could see what the inside of the facility looked like. It was such a new experience and Thorn was admittedly a bit disappointed that he wouldn't be able to participate all the way.

'Well?' Thorn asked, his excitement not quite worn off. 'Read it again!'

'No,' Murtagh firmly responded. 'That was the last time. You've already had it read to you dozens of times!'

'And that doesn't make it any less excitable!'

'And?' Murtagh challenged. 'If I read it to you again it's not going to say anything different the next time around. It's going to say the exact same thing.'

At this point Murtagh realized that his dragon was getting ready to whine and he put his fingers to the bridge of his nose, hoping to avoid a headache.

The room was light with a desk near the large glass window. A highly cushioned chair was located near the window where Murtagh was standing gazing at the sunset and there were about three harder chairs on the opposite side of the desk. The room was small with a laptop on the desk, more of those curious artificial lights that Murtagh had learned was called electricity, and an automatic sliding door that opened without magic. How, Murtagh didn't know and he never sensed any magic whenever the door opened.

Just then the door opened and Murtagh turned around and stuffed the letter back into his boot. He'd brought his own wardrobe with him to earth, refusing to wear any of the outfits that anyone from this culture wore. If they'd want to negotiate with his culture they'd have to get used to the fact that people weren't going to change into their attire to do business.

The person who came through the door surprised Murtagh, causing his eyes to widen slightly as he stared in shock. He looked about eighteen or nineteen and was wearing a clean crisp business suit, his hair slicked back. Murtagh had heard rumors that the CEO of Piron and Sadtech was a novelty, just a boy, having inherited the Piron CEO position from his father and having started Sadtech with someone else when he was just eighteen, but Murtagh hadn't believed it until now when he saw it with his own eyes.

The young man reached forward using a custom that Murtagh had become familiar with, shaking hands. As Murtagh grasped his hand firmly back and shook it the young man smiled in a friendly and laid back matter.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Alec Sadler," he introduced himself while shaking hands and Murtagh couldn't help but smile as well. But there was something about the young man, and Murtagh couldn't quite pin point it, that made him slightly uneasy about the boy. It was like Alec had a dangerous secret that he was hiding. The average person wouldn't have detected it, but Murtagh had been around for thousands of years and when he was younger he'd had hid from Eragon his lineage at first, so he knew first hand that demeanor and look.

"Murtagh," he introduced back, all the while watching Alec closely to see what his reactions would be. He wanted to make sure that whoever Alagaesia ended up interacting with was honorable. And Alec was already making him uneasy with his supposed secrets. It was also a look of someone who had seen a lot at a young age. He had a maturity that the average of his age didn't have.

Murtagh wondered what it was that Alec had seen and experienced. Surely it couldn't have been something as humbling and terrifying as war, could it? But as he looked into the young man's eyes, he could tell that the young man had seen death. Perhaps a loved one? If so, who was it that he was close to that had died? His father perhaps? After all, Murtagh had heard that Escher had been murdered.

But if he had seen Escher's murder, then why hadn't he reported anything? According to what Murtagh had read, Alec had reported nothing. After all, he hadn't even really known about his father except from stories from when he was young. The boy had practically grown up without a father.

Unfortunately, Murtagh didn't have a chance to think on this as Alec was gesturing to a comfortable chair on the opposite side of the desk, having taken his own rotating chair. Murtagh hesitated and then sat down, staring curiously at Alec as Alec did the same thing. Then the boy smiled. "I see you showed up. That is good. That means your interested in my business."

As he gauged the boy closely Murtagh could see honesty in what he said. Then he realized that Alec was waiting for a reply. "Yes," Murtagh said. "Eragon and I both imagine that a lot of my people would be interested in this technology that you have, or whatever it's called. It can do some fascinating things." With that Murtagh's eyes lingered back to the doors that slid open and shut.

Alec followed his line of sight and smiled. "Yes, I can imagine that they would. But trust me. That sliding door is nothing compared to other things that we have. Come," he gestured, getting up from his seat and Murtagh hesitantly stood up, watching as Alec walked around the desk and to the door. The rider proceeded to follow as Alec led them out, down what he called an "elevator", through a maze of hallways and through a sliding door.

The sight that Murtagh beheld caused him to freeze in fascination and Thorn, who was watching through the rider's eyes gasped. 'Is that really possible?' he asked as Murtagh blinked and shook his head. 'Or are you seeing things?'

'I'm definitely not seeing things,' Murtagh responded as tentatively walked closer to a glass case. Inside was a robotic arm being sprayed with a color that looked like the tones of human skin. Alec smiled and stepped closer beside him. The glass case was on a pedestal and as a robotic metal arm continued spraying the organic looking one Alec glanced at him.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Alec murmured softly, his gaze going to back to the limb. "I remember when I first saw this." Murtagh had to glance at Alec for that. It seemed a harmless little comment but there were underlying emotions in Alec's tone leaving the rider to wonder what he meant. And through his link with his dragon he could tell that Thorn had caught it to.

Murtagh had to cock his head in curiosity. "Did someone you know loose a limb?" he asked, trying to crack the case that was Alec Sadler. And Alec blinked up at him. "No," the boy responded back leaving Murtagh to wonder what that was about.

'Perhaps he was just as fascinated as you were?' Thorn suggested and Murtagh couldn't come up with a reply.

Murtagh continued to wander around the room after glancing at Alec to see if it was okay. When he received no protest he continued to explore. What came next caught his sight. It was a levitating object that looked like an airplane except it couldn't be bigger than Murtagh's arm. Glancing back at the young CEO he saw Alec walking up to him. "It's our predator drone, an unmanned vehicle."

Murtagh nodded, not entirely understanding, though he thought he got the gist that it was used by the military. "It's a lot to take in," Murtagh explained, feeling overwhelmed.

As Alec gazed at him in curiosity Murtagh tried to take in the implications of what this meant. He had heard from Eragon that they had powerful weapons that could wipe them out if they so chose to without having to put their own people on their soil, but until now Murtagh hadn't completely understood what Eragon meant.

Now he was getting a glimpse at what was worrying his best friend and little brother. And truth be told it was unsettling to him to. As they had no defenses like this, they were vulnerable and Murtagh wasn't completely sure that magic would help them in that kind of situation.

Alec gazed at the predator drone and decided to answer his statement. "Yeah, I imagine it is. I mean, I've grown up with this, in a world of technology, so in many ways it's hard for me to understand a world without it and where it doesn't exist. And for me it's hard to wrap my head around the thought of magic actually existing. Tell me, does your magic do anything like this?" And Alec turned to Murtagh with a curious expression.

The red rider didn't answer. He merely shook his head as he continued staring at the drone, his mind reeling from the amount of information he was trying to understand. This world may not have magic anymore, but it had certainly done well in magic's absence. It had progressed and changed without magic in ways that would rival even the most powerful magicians, and possibly leave them behind and injured. And truth be told, Murtagh felt threatened.

'Just because they have this, doesn't mean they'll use it on us,' Thorn cautioned his rider as he felt his feelings but that didn't alleviate Murtagh.

'They already have,' Murtagh responded back, thinking on all the things he had learned about the cultures here. 'On their own.' And that worried him.

Alec continued to lead Murtagh from room to room, showing him various things, and by the time everything was over, Alec took him back to where they had started, the room of the CEO. "So?" Alec asked, pouring some apple juice for Murtagh into an elaborate glass cup. "What do you think?"

The rider sighed, thinking carefully. What was he supposed to think? But Thorn beat him to the punch, surprising Murtagh by responding directly into Alec's mind, which seemed to irk the young CEO. Then Murtagh heard Thorn whine as he was cut off from the boy's mind. Apparently, Eragon must have, in the interest of trust, taught Alec how to shield his mind.

At this, the second in command rider realized that this culture must enjoy privacy like his own. And so, Thorn relayed it through Murtagh, who asked for him, "What are we supposed to think? You possess technology that can do marvels that rival even the most powerful of magicians!"

A nod from the boy's head was seen and he must have realized that Murtagh was vocalizing Thorn's comments. "I understand," Alec admitted. "But in the end, you have capabilities that we do not due to your magic, so we are evenly matched."

That didn't help Murtagh relax and he couldn't help but think to himself, 'Are we?'

"But enough of that for now," Alec commanded and with that he gestured to the door, ending the meeting. "I apologize, for I have to start my work day. You're limousine awaits you, Mr. Morzanson."

And at that Murtagh couldn't help but crack a smile. "I politely decline for I will be riding Thorn," he informed Alec and the boy nodded. He'd seen enough technology to last him for a while and he wanted something that was familiar to him for a while. Alec seemed to understand this.

"Very well," Alec nodded in approval at him, scrutinizing him with a gaze that Murtagh didn't think he was capable of, showing wisdom well beyond his years. And then there was that secretive, calculating look again that made Murtagh want to flinch. But he didn't.

With that, Murtagh exited, eager to be out of the building. As Thorn flew down and Murtagh mounted, they met Eragon in a park, Saphira already present. Eragon looked up when they approached and smiled at him. Eragon was wearing his Alagaesian clothes, clearly having refused the wardrobe these people had offered him.

"How was it?" Eragon asked when Murtagh dismounted, and he nodded politely to Thorn.

Murtagh sighed, the worry evident on his face and Eragon frowned.

"It was a lot to take in."

(Present Day)

Murtagh froze the moment Thorn's revelation hit. He stood there, shaking, unsure of what to think. 'No!' he thought, his whole world seemingly falling apart. 'This can't be happening!'

'But it is,' Thorn gently reassured him. But with as frightened as Murtagh was, he wasn't sure how to comfort him. 'It's not the end of the world!'

'This should not be happening!' Murtagh trembled, bringing his hands to his head, and Thorn gently nudged him.

'We should move,' the great dragon reassured him, wanting to get out of the area, and with numbness Murtagh mounted him and they took to the air. The man kept looking around, looking for any sign of Vancouver, or even Alagaesia as long as it was the one that he was familiar with, not the one they had landed in.

"What is happening?" Murtagh asked aloud and Thorn caressed his mind with comfort. The dragon knew that Murtagh knew but was in denial. And the man wanted to go home, badly. He felt out of place, unsure of what to do with himself.

'We'll set up camp far away,' Thorn replied, taking charge of the situation since Murtagh was in no condition to due to his emotional state.

It took every bit of coaxing to convince Murtagh to do as he asked and at last they had a bonfire going that wouldn't attract attention. Murtagh did nothing but stare at it. 'My father?' he asked Thorn once again. 'Are you sure? Are you certain you haven't made a mistake?'

Thorn snorted. 'I'm sure,' was his reply. And unfortunately, it did nothing to ease the situation.

'But Morzan died thousands of years ago!' Murtagh protested, tossing a stray piece of wood into the fire which flickered a bit at that. 'It can't have been him!'

'Murtagh,' Thorn gently breached the subject, even the while knowing that it would set him off. But he needed his companion to face reality and snap out of it. 'We've **_traveled_**, to thousands of years ago.'

'No!' Murtagh snapped and walked over to a tree like he was throwing a tantrum. 'Impossible! No such magic exists.'

'But they have powerful technology-'

'Still not possible!' Murtagh snapped. 'No, there has to be another explanation. Anything.'

And at this Thorn huffed, frustrated. 'Face it, Murtagh. We're time travelers! That's the only explanation!'

'Impossible,' Murtagh frowned further. 'No such thing exists!'

'And you're in denial!'

'That's because it's impossible!' And at that Thorn stopped arguing. There was no way to convince Murtagh right now. He needed time to readjust and get used to the fact. And one thing was for certain, it wasn't going to be an easy road for either of them.

Once more, picking up a stick, Murtagh threw it into the fire, a frown on his face. This was not a good day for him. 'Why?' he thought to himself. 'What is Sonya up to?' Curling up near the trunk, he went to sleep, letting his exhaustion from his still healing wounds bring him deeper into his mind. He sighed in frustration. 'We're not in the past,' he told himself. 'We can't be in the past, because if we are, my... my life is ruined.'

(Present Murtagh Point of View)

Faraway, riding on Tornac, Murtagh eased his horse to a stop, gathering things to begin to settle down for the night. He'd run away from the inn after that disturbing encounter, and Murtagh couldn't help but shiver as he recalled the conversation. "I'm Mathew Kellog," the man had said. What an odd name. "Mathew Kellog," Murtagh rolled the name on his tongue.

As he gathered firewood, he couldn't help but let his thoughts wander. So many strange things had been happening lately, and he didn't even understand all of it. There were rumors of a new dragon and her rider, he found out that he had a step father and half brother, his mother may be alive because for all he knew Kellog had lied, and then there was the mysterious organization that had shown interest in him.

Once more he shivered as he thought on the group that had approached him. For some reason, he didn't trust them, and he didn't doubt his instincts in that matter. If they kept him alive then he trusted them. But he also knew that they had given him some sound advice, but for the wrong reason. They wanted something from him, what, he didn't know. But one thing was for sure: they were using him. They wanted something from him. But what they wanted, he didn't know.

As he went back and started the fire, he curled up by a tree, sighing. Life was complicated.

But what group could possibly be against Galbatorix and yet not with the Varden in any matter? Playing with his knife as he sharpened some wood, he decided that he was done thinking for the day. He needed some rest if he was going to pursue the dragon rider who was his half brother. And he could only hope that he could think of a good enough explanation that would convince his step father to take him under wing.

As much as he hated to admit it due to the fact that he loved his independence, he needed some protection from Morzan. And if this man was an enemy of Morzan, he must be good enough to best a dragon rider because he had apparently survived.

As he spread his bed roll on the ground and lay down, he looked up at the stars and the vast expanse of space. 'What I wouldn't give for life to be far more simple than it is now,' he thought to himself. From the time he'd grown up he'd had nothing but a difficult life. He'd also encountered a large amount of prejudice from people who didn't side with Galbatorix due to who his father was. People automatically assumed that just because his father was Morzan he was exactly like him.

Murtagh wanted nothing more than to not be judged by who he had been born to. He wanted to be treated right and because he was him, not for lineage or anything, not because he was nobility and the son of a rider. Groaning, he turned on his side.

'I feel like people don't know the real me,' his pondered, thinking about his life. 'That, and of those that are friendly to me, everyone wants something from me. Galbatorix proved this well. He was only good to me because he wanted to use me in some scheme of his. Others are good to me because they want a favor from me or from my father, or they want a promotion of sorts from the king. And those who don't like me don't like me because of me, they don't like me for my lineage. It's either because I'm a nobleman, or because I'm the son of a rider, or because I'm Morzan's son. I'm tired of this!'

Once more, his mind went back to his mysterious encounter. 'Even them,' he thought. 'It may be for different reasons, but still they want to use me. And even if I go to my other family, I have no guarantee that they won't use me either. I'm just a pawn.'

No, the only thing Murtagh could think of to prevent that was to conceal his lineage from his family. That may not fool his step father, but with luck he wouldn't even realize that he was his step son. After all, Murtagh wasn't aware of a time when he had ever met them. So if he concealed the fact that they were related, then it might work, that is unless his step father recognized his name.

'And yet if I lie about my name, if they find out they'll never trust me,' Murtagh concluded. So with that in mind he chose to tell the truth about his name but not reveal his past. He didn't want to risk being judged or used. And he would hope for the best and that the ruse would work, that his step father wouldn't recognize who he really was and cast him out.

With those thoughts in mind, Murtagh drifted off to sleep. Darkness danced before him and his body jerked around as confusing images formed in his head. He saw a red dragon hatching, Galbatorix standing over him in triumph. He dreamed of pain and having his mind twisted against his will until he didn't even recognize himself.

More dreams came into his mind, painful healing from that encounter, a new world without Galbatorix, the rise and fall of societies, the rejection of magic by humans. He saw the worlds separate.

But then there was one image that disturbed him even more. There was a hallway and a woman running down it. Murtagh saw himself on the same red dragon, only the dragon was older. "Sonya!" he called after her.

She entered a room. From there the images were even more fuzzy and confusing, and Murtagh thought he was missing a lot. He was sure he didn't see everything. He thought a saw a flash of bright light, then fire, but he wasn't sure.

Even more frightening was the image of the same woman from the dream standing in front of him, the surroundings unclear, an L like object in her hand. With a twitch of her finger there was a loud noise and pain erupted in Murtagh.

Murtagh woke with a scream in real life, clutching his chest. Shrieking, he did his best to calm down his breathing. Tremors ran down the length of his body and Murtagh was left wondering how on earth a dream could feel so real and have such an effect on him.

It was a couple of more minutes before Murtagh's body realized that he wasn't actually in pain and that he was just reacting to something that felt real. How this could be in the first place, Murtagh didn't know. As far as he was aware it took something physical to inflict physical pain.

Tornac had moved away from him, eyeing him warily. And Murtagh didn't blame him. 'What's happening?' he thought. He gripped the ground with his hands, dirt getting under his fingernails, and as he looked around he saw that he had rolled off his bedroll in his sleep. The grass was disturbed where he lay, and the fire he had lit had died out, small bits of smoke rising up. As he looked he saw that the first rays of dawn were approaching. It was time to wake up anyways.

Slowly, carefully, in case he had injured himself, he stood up, his body aching all over. The traumatic experience of the night before had caused his muscles to clench and he ground his teeth in an attempt to focus on anything but the pain.

Once more he started the fire to cook breakfast and soon afterwords he put the fire completely out, covering it in such a way that he hoped no one would notice that the ground had even been disturbed to begin with. Then, after completely packing, he put the saddle on Tornac and set off again, his horse trotting and neighing.

In all honesty, Murtagh didn't know where he was heading. The only thing that he could think of was to track the thing that was most likely sent after him: the Ra'zac. And so he set about to find the trail. All the while he kept looking behind him, have expecting someone from the empire to show up and at the same time he kept looking to the sky, nervous to see his father.

By noon he'd found the trail and with relief he saw that he wasn't too close. The last thing he wanted was the Ra'zac coming after him, especially since it was more than likely that the Empire was looking for him. He was not eager to go back.

From there they day grew somewhat colder and he shivered, pulling his cloak out of one of the bags and wrapping it around him. Then Tornac's ears twitched and he knew that the horse had heard something. Cautiously, almost afraid, he looked around at his surroundings. He was somewhat far away from Teirm and was in a tiny forest of sorts near the foothills. Upon seeing nothing he urged his horse further in the treeline in an attempt to avoid being seen.

Finally, as Tornac snorted, the sound of another horse reached his ears. Somewhat alarmed, Murtagh got off the saddle and picketed his horse, pulling his cloak and hood around him. He could hear the other horse but he didn't know where it was. He turned in every direction and when he didn't see anything he pulled his hand and half sword out of the sheath, slowly walking downhill.

As he darted from tree to tree, trying to pinpoint the sound that seemed to be moving, he saw nothing. Looking all around him, he saw nothing and he backed up slowly, intending to reach Tornac and race out of there.

He would have succeeded had he not been grabbed from behind, a hand over his mouth, a sword against his neck. He was restrained in an iron grip and found that his strugglings were proving pointless. That and his screams and protests were muffled.

A mind brushed his, attempting to make contact and Murtagh immediately erected his barriers, trying to stave off the attacker. But to his surprised his attacker didn't try to invade his mind further, instead giving up on that avenue.

"Drop your weapon, boy," a gruff male voice whispered in his ear and Murtagh struggled against his bonds once more. The last thing he wanted to do was drop his weapon and be helpless.

As he struggled the man sighed and with ease wrenched the sword out of his grip, letting it fall to the ground, all the while keeping him restrained. When Murtagh fought more, protesting against the hand that was clamped over his mouth, the other man's sword dug into his skin more, causing blood to flow. At that Murtagh stopped struggling and was willing to be more cooperative.

"Do you ever do as your told?" the man asked incredulously and Murtagh stood stalk still, waiting to see what his fate was. When the man began dragging to him the noise of the other horse Murtagh once more struggled. He was being kidnapped!

To his surprise the man became more gentle with him. "Relax, I mean you no harm," the man told him in the ancient language. "I only want to talk."

This startled Murtagh enough to stop struggling against the man, though he made no move to go in the direction the man was dragging him, letting the man use his own muscle to bring him there. When the sounds of the other man's horse were finally heard behind him, the man stopped dragging him. "Now," the man said in the common tongue. "I need to make sure that you don't mean me any harm. You will lower your barriers and allow me to see into your mind to make sure that you are not going to harm me."

This seemed outrageous to Murtagh. Here he was being kidnapped and the man thought _**he **_was a threat? As the man reached out with his mind again, gentle this time, Murtagh struggled against him physically and kept his barriers up, half expecting the man to still attempt to breach his mind.

But when the man seemed to realize that the boy wasn't going to lower his defenses and was willing to resist him he did not try to push, and instead sent reassurance through the link. But Murtagh still refused. He was _**not**_ going to let this man breach his sanctuary.

The man sighed again. "I mean you no harm," the man assured him in the ancient language and for once Murtagh was grateful that Morzan had forced him to learn the language, even if the man had done it for the reason of being able to use his son as a tool someday.

But that wasn't enough for Murtagh. "I only intend to read your intentions and whether or not you mean me harm," the man added in the ancient tongue but Murtagh still wasn't sure of the man and struggled to get out of his grip and away from the sword at his neck.

Murtagh wasn't really sure whether or not this man was sent from the empire and he wasn't willing to risk it, no matter what the man promised. He didn't trust that the man wouldn't find loop holes to dig further into his mind. After all, just because Murtagh thought a bit of information was unnecessary and didn't state whether or not he meant harm didn't mean the man didn't think so.

As the boy continued to struggle against the man and his attempts to coax his way into his mind, and as fear seeped through the link, the man added more. "I won't go into anything personal," he promised Murtagh in the ancient language. Murtagh still wouldn't relent. "I won't go into anything that you believe is personal. I'll let you decide what to share, and if you don't want to share something, go ahead and block it. I won't go in further."

This promise in the ancient language was far more reassuring than the past ones, but Murtagh still wasn't sure about it. The man waited patiently. As Murtagh tried to see if there were any loop holes that could be exploited, the man grew impatient. "I need to know why you were following me!" he grumbled in the ancient language and at this Murtagh tried to protest.

"I wasn't following you!" he tried to say but it was muffled against the man's hand.

And once more the man sighed in frustration. "Do you agree to the terms or not?" The sword pressed a little harder against his neck and Murtagh flinched.

Shaking his head, the man sighed. "I already promised you that I meant you no harm, what more do you want?" Murtagh snorted at this, thinking, 'I want you to let me go,' all the while keeping his barriers up. But as the man waited patiently sending soothing reassurance through the link, Murtagh deliberated more.

This man could not harm him. He had promised in the ancient language. Murtagh would be able to say what he wanted to share and what he didn't want to share, and the man could not press further. His promise wouldn't allow it. And seeing as he couldn't say anything in the ancient language due to the fact that the man wouldn't let him speak, the only other option was through the mind.

In many ways it only benefited the man. After all, even if Murtagh said something in the ancient language there were always loop holes. The only way the man would know anything about him for sure was through his mind. But would this man still be able to use what he gained against him?

And Murtagh couldn't see any way around it. Sure he could sit here with a sword against his neck all day until the man gave up, but that would take hours. But the quick way out of it made Murtagh highly uncomfortable. However, he didn't see that he had a choice.

For the first time in his life, Murtagh hesitantly lowered his defenses and allowed the man into his only sanctuary. Though the man entered gently, Murtagh couldn't help but flinch. It was not a pleasant experience for him, no matter how gentle the man tried to be. He still felt very violated.

To his relief the man only took his memories of his last couple of hours tracking the Ra'zac and what he found, including the fact that Murtagh hadn't been intentionally tracking him. And as the man came across his given name Murtagh felt surprise seep through the link.

The man immediately withdrew quickly from his mind and let him go, and as Murtagh spun around, he saw the man sheathing his sword, looking at him in interest. But Murtagh was wary. He wasn't sure what to think of the situation. That, and he had just been through a violating experience that breached any trust he might have had. But since the man made no more attempts to harm him Murtagh did his best to calm down.

The man seemed to be of average height with dark brown hair, and he seemed both old and young at the same time. There was an air about him that told Murtagh that he was a powerful magician. How powerful Murtagh didn't know, but it seemed like he was concealing much of his power.

Murtagh made sure the barriers were once more around his mind as he backed up slightly, ready to get his sword that was left a few yards back. The man watched him in interest, as if waiting to see what he would do. As soon as the boy retrieved his sword he sheathed it, not wanting to seem like a threat and not wanting it out since the other man had put his sword away.

Then he studied the man more. "What do you want with me?" Murtagh demanded to know, not comfortable with the man who had just violated his only sanctuary.

The man raised one eyebrow, his face showing that Murtagh was not what he was expecting. "Nothing, actually," the man admitted shrugging. "I thought that you were sent to track me, and I had to make sure that you weren't a threat."

"You thought I was a threat?!" Murtagh hissed incredulously. "You came up behind me and ambushed me! Then you forced me to open my mind to you!"

"Yes, I have to apologize for that," the man replied somewhat warily. "I didn't know if you were an enemy and I had to be sure. Still, I can see how uncomfortable that was for you. I do apologize."

Murtagh flinched at the reference to what had just occurred. "You practically gagged me so it wasn't as if I could tell you anything in the ancient language to reassure you! You trapped me and gave me only one choice in the matter!"

At the mention of the ancient language the man raised his eyebrows in surprise. But he didn't comment on that. "I did say I was sorry," the man trudged forward. "And perhaps I can offer you my hospitality as an apology? Dinner can be on me tonight. I'll cook and start the fire tonight if you travel with me." He raised his hands, palms up, trying to be reassuring.

"And why would I accept it?" Murtagh warily asked.

The man sighed. "Because we're after the same thing, Murtagh, the Ra'zac. I need to find them and I know that you've been tracking them." Once more Murtagh flinched as he remembered the man in his mind. "And because there is much I need to talk to you about."

Once more the boy hesitated. While the man seemed sincere Murtagh wasn't sure about trading tales with a man who had just abducted him. But as his horse trotted up from an unbidden command of the man, and Murtagh was curious of how Tornac had untied himself, Murtagh saw he had no choice. This man was a magician and could stop him if he tried to flee, though he had the strange feeling the man would let him go if he so chose to leave.

As he deliberated his options Murtagh decided to stay. "Very well," he agreed, wrapping his cloak around him tighter, his hood still on his head. As he swung into the saddle, the man doing the same, and they rode off in the same direction, the Ra'zac trail. The man rode beside him.

Murtagh glanced over. "Why are you after the Ra'zac anyways?" he ventured to ask and the man glanced at him.

"Why are you?" the man challenged and once more Murtagh was uncomfortable. 'This man wants me to give personal information and yet he won't do the same,' Murtagh noted. Then finally he challenged, "I asked you first."

"After you."

He sighed. The man was frustrating him. After thinking things through he decided that it might be worth it to give some information away, but not all. For all he knew, this man was with Galbatoirx. "I'm on the run from the Empire," Murtagh finally admitted and the man looked at him in surprise.

"And from your father?" the man asked. Murtagh froze, reigning his horse in front of the man.

"What do you mean?" Murtagh demanded, trying to keep his tone calm, and yet somewhat alarmed. "Why do you want me to travel with you? What do you want from me?"

The man sighed and tried to skirt his horse around the boy. But when Murtagh blocked his path with Tornac the man had no choice but to answer. "I didn't see you until you turned around, you know," he explained. "But I was surprised to hear your name in your mind. And when I finally saw you for the first time you did look familiar. You look very much like Morzan."

Murtagh flinched at this. The man's eyes softened. "And yet your more like Selena than him." Murtagh relaxed some, but that didn't reassure him.

"But what do you want from me?" he demanded more, and the man gazed at him sternly and yet kindly. The boy wasn't sure what to make of that.

As the man deliberated what to say, he finally decided to answer. Using the ancient language he confessed to Murtagh, "I desire your help, actually. I believe that we could help each other out. I'll help you track the Ra'zac. I believe you when you say your running from Morzan: I can see it in your eyes. So I offer you a deal: I'll help protect you from him and help you track the Ra'zac in exchange for your help with a certain task."

Wariness once more creeped into Murtagh's bones. He was being used. "You're saying you want to use me?" he icily responded, unwilling to be a pawn.

And once more the man was in deliberation while the horses nickered impatiently. And suddenly Murtagh could see the sadness in the man's eyes as he opened up more than before. He confessed more in the ancient language, "It's help that I feel only you can provide. My... son has... run away from me. Admittedly, it's partly my fault. In many ways I pushed him away and now he wants nothing to do with me."

"That still doesn't explain why you were tracking the Ra'zac," Murtagh demanded in the common tongue. "Or why you think I would be able to help you out with your son."

"I'm tracking the Ra'zac because I know he is going after them," once more the ancient language was used. "And I believe that you can help me because you're his half brother. He won't listen to me right now but he will listen to you. You have a chance at convincing him."

Murtagh's eyes widened at this. "Step father," he breathed and the man nodded. "He's the new dragon rider!" The man was surprised that he knew but he nodded none the less.

Immediately Murtagh was more open, immediately forgiving the man for breaching his mind, after all he couldn't afford to hold a grudge when he needed him. Surely this man that had fallen for his mother was honorable?

That, and if the information he had been told about the man was correct then he could indeed best Morzan. And he was somewhat relieved that the man seemed willing to take him under wing. He needed protection against Morzan, and apparently this man had realized it and was willing to offer it. Moving Tornac aside they began journeying again.

"My name is Brom," the man finally confessed and Murtagh relaxed more.

'This could work,' Murtagh mused, happy to be accepted. 'He can be my father instead of Morzan, if he's willing.' Part of him hoped the man would accept him as a son so that in a way he could get rid of his heritage of Morzan for a father. But he also knew that it was too soon to tell as they had just met. Only time would tell.

That and he wanted to be sure that Brom wouldn't use him like a tool as Morzan had, but something told him that the man wouldn't and would seek his welfare instead of using him. He would be a true father to him, something Morzan never was and had denied him.

They traveled for a moment in silence. Then, thinking about the creepy encounter with Mathew Kellog he felt he had to ask. "Did you send those people after me?" Murtagh lightly wanted to know.

"People?" Brom asked with a puzzled expression. "What people?"

And so, taking the better part of two hours as they rode together, Murtagh related how he had escaped Uru'baen, the death of his best friend at the hands of his father while they were escaping the capital, his confusion and travels. He related going to his friends to hide and recoup, and then left.

And then he related how he was approached during his travels by the mysterious Mathew Kellog who seemed to know exactly who he was.

Brom shook his head, somewhat disturbed at this. "I have never heard of him," he confessed. But his mind seemed further away, like viewing something of the past. "But I do believe that Eragon had a similar encounter that you did," he admitted. Murtagh was surprised at this, but he cataloged the name of his half brother in his mind.

After that, Brom spent the next half hour relating of what little he knew of Eragon's mysterious encounter. He didn't know the woman's name who had approached him but he wasn't sure that Eragon knew either.

He then confessed how he had concealed the fact that he was Eragon's father from him, and how this had affected Eragon finding out from another source. He then detailed their fight in which Brom expressed with sorrow that Eragon was right about many things, that he'd had no right not to tell Eragon that he was his father.

He also related how upset Eragon had been and how Eragon had rejected him. "It's my fault," Brom had said. "I knew that I should have been honest with him. I knew for years. But I lied to myself and told myself he was better off without me and without knowing."

Murtagh nodded. The situation did seem odd. And he couldn't help but wonder if the people had known that that would happen between Eragon and Brom should they intervene in the manner that they had. But one thing puzzled him. "Why did you keep my existence from Eragon? Did you not like me? Did you not trust me?"

Brom raised his eyebrows in shock. "I apologize if it came off like that for that was not my intention. I have nothing against you, Murtagh. Truth be told it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with your father. I am... wary of letting sensitive information out, even to good people. I wanted Eragon's relation to me kept a secret for his own safety. I feared that if Eragon went looking for you then Morzan would run across him, and I could not afford that, nor for Morzan to find out his relation to me. Eragon would be in even more danger then."

"And so you abandoned me in Uru'baen," Murtagh bitterly scoffed. Feelings of abandonment raced through him. Here he'd had to live in both Uru'baen and in his father's castle in the most oppressive of settings, constantly fearing for his life. Several times people had attempted to assassinate him just because he was Morzan's son. And all the while Eragon was at least raised by loving people.

As if seeing where Murtagh's thoughts were going Brom sighed. "If I could have gone to get you, I would have," he confessed. "But you have to understand that you were so heavily guarded that it was impossible from someone on the outside to go retrieve you. I am sorry for what you've been through. And I did go try to retrieve you once. That was when I discovered that it was impossible."

Murtagh still felt bitter, but he wasn't as bitter. He could see where Brom was coming from. He himself had barely escaped with his life, and that was only because he had the element of surprise.

Yes, the king probably knew he wanted to leave, but he didn't think the boy would actually succeed, and thus he hadn't put more guards to maintain him. Murtagh escaped by pure luck. If he was captured, both Morzan and Galbatorix wouldn't make the same mistake. He might even be given death.

"My life was cage, a prison," Murtagh whispered softly, eyes down on the ground as they rode. "Morzan and Galbatorix did their best to make sure I couldn't leave."

Brom nodded. "I thought so. After I tried to get you for Selena's sake and I failed I realized that it might at least physically be safer to leave you there for now. You were so young, and even as a teenager, even if I had made it in, escape would have been impossible. It would also have made it to where the king could charge you with treason for wanting to leave. For Selena's sake, I didn't want that. The penalty for treason is death. I doubt your father would have prevented you from dying then."

Murtagh shivered as the truth about Brom's statement on Morzan was said. Murtagh knew that Morzan would indeed have let him die for being a traitor should that occur. The man cared very little about him and Morzan would have found it embarrassing should Murtagh be charged of treason, therefore he would have wanted Murtagh to die to get rid of his son's "taint" on his name.

"Which may have been better considering what I experienced," came Murtagh's harsh retort, but then he relaxed some. His step father didn't hate him. At least that was something.

"Not the ideal circumstance," Brom admitted. "But it was the best I could do under the situation." Murtagh nodded. It would do no good to get on his step father's bad side. Plus, trying to retrieve Murtagh might have exposed Eragon and Brom wouldn't want that. And Murtagh couldn't push what he had been through on his little brother. And so he let it go.

Brom seemed to be watching him as he deliberated, and when Murtagh glanced at him, Brom's eyes were filled with compassion. "We should camp for the night," Brom finally announced and the two men looked for a suitable place on horseback before dismounting and setting up camp.

Once they dismounted the horses Brom told Murtagh to relax and let him take care of everything. Indeed, Brom fulfilled his promise to be hospitable and took care of the fire and the food.

Murtagh was impressed. And for once he felt like he could breath. He soon discovered that though Brom was gruff and of a short temper he had his own way of being sympathetic and caring. And in the instances where he was gruff and short, it was often because he was protecting those he cared about. And Murtagh was happy that Brom was accepting him in his own way.

Murtagh also noticed that though Brom came off harshly it was because he sought to better people and push them to what he knew they were capable of. That Brom thought of him so highly only increased Murtagh's opinion of him and slowly he let go completely of his resentment against Brom for abandoning him to Morzan.

Later that night they sparred and Brom was thoroughly impressed with Murtagh. "Must be Selena's blood," he gruffly replied and though Murtagh didn't ask he was curious to know what Brom meant by that. But the older man also gave Murtagh some tips for improvement.

It was also later that night that Murtagh found out why Brom could best Morzan. Admittedly, Murtagh was surprised to find out that Brom was a rider. "Really?" Murtagh asked, impressed. "Then where is your dragon?"

"With the Varden," Brom explained. "She connects me to them so that I can lead them. But she leads them in my place."

Murtagh nodded. Not the ideal set up but he could understand Brom wanting to keep Eragon from growing up on the war front, especially since he had lost Selena. Who would want their child to grow up in a war setting? That it might have kept Eragon ignorant was one thing, but it was also a protection. "Will I ever see her?" Murtagh asked.

Brom deliberated. "Maybe. I've kept in contact with her and I still journey to the Varden. She was rather surprised to hear about you. But I have to retrieve Eragon first."

At this, Murtagh nodded. That was reasonable. Then another question popped into his mind. "Does Eragon know about you being a rider?" he asked.

Brom sighed. "You ask a lot of questions," he grumbled. They were currently sitting by the small fire, warming themselves up. But then Brom finally relented. "Yes. It seems that the other woman told him."

Silence reigned for a brief moment and Murtagh couldn't help but shift uncomfortably. This worried the younger male. "It seems as if they knew that he would react that way," Murtagh observed softly. "But why? What would they gain by turning him against you? They told me they weren't with the Empire nor were they interested in it."

"Are you sure they weren't lying?" Brom asked him and Murtagh shrugged.

"I don't know what to think," Murtagh confessed. "But that's not the first odd thing that has happened to me." And with a deep breath Murtagh related his confusing dreams.

Brom listened, stalk still, his face expressionless. When Murtagh was done Brom nodded. "Some strange forces are indeed at work," he seriously responded and stoked the fire some. "What, I don't know. But this I seem sure of. Even if these people aren't with the Empire they're no friend of the people or the Varden either."

"But what could they possibly want?" Murtagh exclaimed. "And why me? Why Eragon? What could we possibly do for them?"

"Eragon is a rider," Brom cautioned Murtagh. "And seeing as they know you're his brother perhaps they think that they can use you to get to him even though the two of you have never met. They must realize that somehow family means a lot to both of you and the two of you are connected."

"Then why not use you?" Murtagh questioned.

"Perhaps because I'm older," Brom explained. "But you and Eragon are younger, so perhaps they think you two are more vulnerable. Though in Eragon's case that most certainly is true."

Murtagh sighed. "So many questions! After all how can they know so much about us and our intimate lives without having met us before now? And I still feel that we're missing a vital piece of information that could explain all of this!"

"That we are," Brom agreed. And once more he stoked the fire.

Suddenly, without warning, Brom froze. Murtagh opened his mouth to ask something but Brom immediately put up his index finger to silence him. And so Murtagh had no choice but to wait patiently until Brom was finished with whatever he was doing. And Murtagh could only watch as Brom's facial features changed from confusion to shock.

Brom turned slowly to Murtagh who stared at him curiously. His expression was still in shock. He shook his head as if he was trying hard to process difficult to believe information. "That was Saphira, my Saphira," he explained, and Murtagh couldn't help but wonder if Eragon's dragon had the exact same name. 'That will make it difficult and confusing to tell who's referring to who,' he noted.

But the next information also put Murtagh in shock and Brom looked Murtagh directly in the eye. And it was then that Murtagh knew it was something serious. "The Varden have just received word from our spies. Shruikan is dead. Galbatorix is now mortal."

Murtagh's mouth hung open in shock. "Impossible! He keeps the dragon well guarded!"

But Brom shook his head. "My spies are very good. We have more than one witness and all of them together cannot make this kind of mistake. Shruikan is dead and thus Galbatorix is now mortal."

It was a lot to take in but Murtagh couldn't help but wonder how after knowing all the securities and defenses of Uru'baen and experiencing them himself.

And so he wondered. Who could possibly be able to do this?

(Sonya Point of View)

The mansion that Liber8 was staying in was crowded, and as much as Sonya hated these primitive circumstances, she knew that it was necessary if they were going succeed and that it was needed. Besides, she'd been living like this for a few decades now, still looking as young as ever thanks to a serum that extended life.

But that didn't mean that she liked living primitively. 2014 was more tolerable than this. But anything that would help and forward their cause she was willing to do.

Including getting rid of Murtagh.

"Murtagh," Sonya growled in anger. The red dragon rider's name always made her angry. There was a reason that she sent Mathew to deal with his doppelganger. For one she didn't trust herself not to lose control or composure and that was needed to get what they needed to done.

Dealing with Eragon she could handle. And she still intended to get rid of him in the process as they got rid of Murtagh. But not before they caused some serious hurt and some necessary changes to the time line.

Sonya had just walked into their house from her travels to talk to Eragon when she noticed Garza walking in from the kitchen wearing her 2014 jeans and a knitted button up top. Smiling at her coworker she approached, eager to hear the progress and see what Travis Verta had been up to. Deep in her heart she hoped that Travis succeeded. "How did everything go?" she asked Jasmine.

Jasmine bumped fists with her. "Everything went according to plan," she informed her comrade and the queen of hearts grinned. "I successfully eliminated Shruikan. Now the mad king is mortal once more."

Sonya sighed in relief. Her comrade didn't get caught. Not that she doubted Jasmine. The woman was an excellent sniper and a sniper she had been when she eliminated the black dragon with her specially made rifle. Even the average bullet could pierce dragon hide. Such was the power of their advanced weapons. And Sonya couldn't help but be proud coming from an advanced society.

Once more Sonya thought on their circumstances and plan. Though Sonya had been chosen to lure Murtagh to the time travel device, everything carefully planned out and surprisingly gone according to plan, her fellow Liber8 members had used a different time travel device to get to the designated time.

All of them had taken the serum, plus a few other time travelers that Sonya would prefer not to think of at the moment. Thus they would be expected to live for at least a few hundred years. And their children would share in their longevity if they should have any.

But if they were partnered with someone who didn't live a long time then more than likely their children would live long but not as long. It would be diluted with each time the children and each subsequent generation married an average aged person until finally their descendants lived an average life span.

But that was besides the point. They didn't have time to settle down, get married, and have kids, though admittedly Sonya and Travis had indulged themselves with the opportunity and had gotten married. Her husband may have a sharp temper though they loved each other dearly and looked after each other, no matter what. And after Julian and Kagame they jointly led Liber8.

After discovering the technology to revive dead people, Lucas had immediately set about replicating it to have more. Then they had repaired the bodies of Sonya Valentine, Stefan Jawarski, and Edward Kagame. Then they had revived them, or rather "merged" as they'd soon found out. And though it pained Sonya that Curtis seemed to be a traitor to their cause, she didn't let that get in the way.

Julian had joined them shortly, coming into their inner circle with the wisdom he had at such a young age, or at least what Liber8 viewed as wisdom. Together he and Kagame led Liber8, Julian running it behind the scenes as Theseus as he couldn't afford people to know his even deeper connection to Liber8.

But then Eragon and his infamous brother had turned up. Murtagh had ruined everything. Careful planning and hard work were all brought to naught because of the stupidity of the red rider. Anger at Murtagh filled Sonya as she thought on the nosy nobleman. 'He has much to pay for,' she thought to herself, and she couldn't help but be satisfied for the ending they had planned for both of the red riders. She would make sure that Murtagh regretted what he'd done.

"Travis should be home soon," Jasmine informed her and then walked off after Sonya nodded to her. Glancing at the clock that they had made, Sonya saw that it was six pm North American time.

Their mansion was big and Sonya was standing in the big greeting hall. Walking towards the corner of the room, she stood next to a wall that seemed ordinary. But after taking her necklace off and placing it next to the wall a console on the wall made of light came out and she typed in the numeric password.

The wall opened up and a small, winding staircase was seen, small enough that it wouldn't have been noticed in the architecture should someone look at the blueprints to see how the house was built. That, and they hadn't put it on the blueprints anyways for obvious reasons.

She stepped forward and turned on the electric lights, the secret door automatically closing behind her. When she reached the bottom of the winding stairs she turned off the light. She wasn't worried about any advanced person detecting electricity because the way they had built things prevented electronic, temporal, or any advanced signatures from coming out and to the notice of someone who had the means. Thus no one would find out unless they showed them.

That, and the house had looked ordinary on the outside. They'd merely bought an existing house and modified it for their needs, thus the winding staircase hadn't been there before. They'd also added technology in their secret chambers.

Sonya wasn't bothered anyways. They had more than one hideout that they could resort to. Still, she liked this current hideout. But this wasn't the first time that they'd had to switch hideouts. The last place they had been staying before coming back to this primitive time was the old Freelancer facility.

A giant room filled with supports for the ceiling was what awaited Sonya at the bottom of the stairs. In this medium sized room there was nothing but storage, and she picked her way through boxes until she came to a wooden carved door in the side. Unlocking it with her necklace and the same mechanism as upstairs, she entered and saw a giant computer lab filled with computers and equipment.

In the middle of the room, in a chair by a computer was Lucas Ingram, Julian Randoll who was better known as Theseus and was the step brother of Alec Sadler, and Edward Kagame standing behind him, watching him as he explained something. Then they conversed quietly.

They looked up when they saw Sonya approaching and Julian gave her a respectable nod. Sonya couldn't help but be glad that he did. The boy barely man was important to them all, and she greatly respected him and his wisdom.

"Sonya!" Lucas greeted her, turning in his swiveling chair to face her. "How did it go?"

Sonya grinned conspiratorially. She knew who he was referring to and what he was referring to. "He fell for it!" she announced. "And no doubt there will be friction between him and Brom soon."

"Good!" Theseus stated, his eyes calculating. "We need him to doubt his birth father."

"And Murtagh?" Sonya ground out. "What of that creature?"

At this both Julian and Kagame exchanged looks. "Mathew was able to get him to go on the trail of his half brother, however there have been some... complications."

"What kind of complications?" Sonya inquired seriously. She didn't doubt that Mathew had done what he said he was going to do. Once the man realized that they were leaving, knowing that his time line would more than likely collapse, it had given the man incentive to go with them.

They had only offered because Julian said it would be useful to have him. That and after bringing Kagame back, and with Julian in the know of who they were, they had been able to repair things. Before Murtagh and Eragon had showed up, they'd worked out a new deal with Kellog, allowing him to still pursue his interests and yet keeping him on their good side. And the way they had hatched their plans it had benefited both of them.

It had even helped that Kiera was now at least somewhat on their side now. While she still didn't approve of their methods she at least agreed that the future she had worked for wasn't the best one, and she was now willing to change it. She may not be willing to change it the way Liber8 wanted it, but it was still a start.

The only friction had come because Kiera was friends with Alec and Mathew had ousted Alec out of Piron. Initially Kellog had wanted to head Piron. While Sonya still didn't like the child genius, at least this time traveling Alec was better than the one that was from the newer time line. He was willing to change the future whereas the other Alec would bring about the dreaded future that Sonya and her comrades had been trying to avoid.

It had taken a lot to convince Kellog to give up his claim to Piron. First of all Kellog didn't really have claim to begin with. But after giving Kellog a monetary offer that he couldn't refuse he went back to work for Sonya and her comrades. They immediately put his talents to use again and he had been able to procure a lot of money for them through various means, legal and otherwise.

But by involving Mathew it had alienated Alec even though Alec was working to bring down Piron. After some negotiations and making sure that they wouldn't step on each others toes, the two finally reconciled a bit and worked to change the future, both by beginning to bring down Piron and other things. Mathew's initial worry about being financially effected was no longer for as he worked with Sonya and the others, they made sure to secure their assets.

Still though, in the end Alec was Kiera's friend and he wouldn't do anything to harm her. This had caused friction a few times, but eventually and with work everyone was receiving an understanding and respect of each other. That didn't mean that they were on the same page, but it did mean that they were occasionally allies in certain things where they had no choice but to work together for the greater good. And slowly, they grew more tolerant of each other.

Unfortunately, this whole time traveling scheme against Murtagh wasn't one of them. Once more they found themselves on the opposite side of Brad, Kiera, and Alec. After Kiera had opened her eyes Sonya had hoped that things would improve more and while they did, once more things were stagnated between them.

She was aware that Brad, Kiera, Alec, Emily, and a few others had traveled back to, using a time device that young Alec Sadler had built, but where they currently were and what they were doing Sonya didn't know. She didn't even know how many of them had arrived or if they had all arrived yet. After all, even Liber8 was waiting for a few more of their comrades to arrive that had not yet made it through in the jump. But they were awaiting very few.

Fortunately, though they had arrived at a later time than Sonya's group had. Kiera's group had arrived about five years ago, so they hadn't had as much time to adjust to things and to situate themselves, let alone put their plans into play while Liber8 had had decades to situate and put their plans into play. That didn't mean that they couldn't do damage to their plans though. Kiera had proven before that she could.

'Stragglers is always a risk,' Sonya thought, thinking back to her first jump and to a previous thought that had occupied her mind for a bit. It had taken Kagame a few months to arrive after the initial group's arrival in the first time jump.

Thus, with Kiera's group, more than likely there were stragglers with how many they had to bring. But no doubt the core was already there. After all, she'd come across Emily by accident before the young woman had run away. Sonya hadn't been able to catch up with her.

Kiera's group was already causing troubles with their plans. Kagame and Julian had tried negotiating, but so far it hadn't availed anything. Why they were protecting Murtagh and Eragon, Sonya couldn't fathom. The two riders had already proved themselves too dangerous to time.

Sonya was pulled back to the present as she received an answer to her question. "It appears that he has run into Brom," Kagame stated with distaste and Sonya couldn't help but be frustrated.

"Was there any other kind of interference?" Sonya inquired further.

"It does not appear that Kiera or any of the others urged Brom to meet with Murtagh," Julian answered her question and Sonya nodded. It was just coincidence. An unlucky coincidence at that.

As frustration seeped through her veins, Sonya did her best to calm down. They had things to do. That and there was one more loose end that needed to be taken care of. "What of phase two?" she asked and this time Edward answered.

"Garza is already prepared to return," he informed her and Sonya nodded. "We are just rerunning calculations here with Lucas so that we may remain in contact and watch while the deed is performed." Another nod came from Sonya and the woman waited in excitement for their labors to succeed. With this next phase they would be one step closer to achieving their goal.

As if on cue, Jasmine appeared in the doorway and stepped in. "Is it ready?" she demanded of Ingram and Lucas nodded.

"Just finishing the program and the touch ups," Ingram informed her and swiveled in his chair back to the computer. When the screen refreshed, Ingram smiled, handing her an ordinary looking necklace that no doubt had a camera on it.

"All done," he said and Garza took it, putting it over her head and trying it out. When she was satisfied that it was working to expectation, she walked over to a filing cabinet and took out a bracelet. Then she walked over to a wall, opened it with a console, and took out a rifle, putting it together. Then, tapping the bracelet, she was gone in a flash of bright light.

Lucas chuckled. "Got to love that new teleportation technology Alec and Jason developed. I love using it against them." He didn't have time to respond further for Jasmine's voice came from the speakers on the computer.

"Are you reading me?" she asked, and the screen on the computer flashed. Now you could see people in Uru'baen walking around, and Sonya moved closer to get a better look. The people appeared to be crowded somewhere, and as the necklace moved they could see walls, and knowing that Jasmine was climbing to higher ground, they all grinned in anticipation.

"Any moment now!" Lucas eagerly chuckled, and sure enough, Uru'baen square came into focus. Morzan appeared to be there, but he was not the target. Not a moment later, Galbatorix stepped out into the open.

The clicking of Jasmine's weapon was heard over the speakers and everyone eagerly braced themselves. Jasmine Garza was an expert marksmith; she never missed.

As Galbatorix began speaking they saw Jasmine's weapon aimed at him, and soon a crack of thunder was heard. Galbatorix keeled over and the screaming began. Right before Jasmine pulled away Morzan's distant face was seen looking at his king in shock.

"It is done," Jasmine said over the speakers.

Galbatorix was dead.

**All right, so that's the end of chapter two.**

**I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Please review if you are reading this. Reviewing **_**is** _**a courtesy.**

**Firestar'sniece**


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